


Delta Kappa Kappa

by HighWarlockMegaraBane



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Background Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Background Simon Lewis/Isabelle Lightwood, BoyxBoy, College AU, Drinking, Frat Boy Magnus, Fraternities & Sororities, Love/Hate, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partying, Slow Burn, background clace, background sizzy, like the slowest burn, lots of teenage/20-something angst, minor language, obligatory college au, really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2019-12-26 23:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18292424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighWarlockMegaraBane/pseuds/HighWarlockMegaraBane
Summary: Alec pulled his phone out of his pocket, firing a quick text to Jace—meet at Java Jones in ten?—and adjusted one headphone to scratch the shell of his ear.“Hey!”At the sudden shout, Alec jerked his head up—just as he was barreled off of his feet and thrown into the grass.Alec is a third year at NYU when he meets Magnus Bane, a senior Fashion and Design major - when they quite literally run into each other. Alec's ready to ignore the pretentious asshole, but that proves to be easier said than done, as the fraternity Jace is pledging for, Delta Kappa Kappa, just so happens to be the home of one certain flamboyant senior. Alec's caught between proving himself (to who, he isn't certain) and focusing on his studies, while trying to keep his ever-growing feelings under wraps. It also doesn't help that Magnus is sending him mixed signal after mixed signal.[Updates on (every other) Saturday - as per chapter 10]12/5/2019 - Finals are here, so while I'm preparing for finals, getting through the holidays, and busting my butt at work, DKK will be on hiatus. See you in January! Happy holidays!





	1. Meeting Magnus

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I've been thinking about this for a long time. And I finally decided to just word-vomit it up. So it might be good and it might be terrible. Who knows.

Alec was the first one out of his class, snatching up his bag and disappearing out the door almost before the professor was done speaking. He took the stairs up from the basement two at a time, pulling his headphones from around his neck and settling them over his ears. Before he was outside, his music was already blaring and he was lost to the world.

               Alec was starting his third year at New York University, alongside his sister Isabelle, who was an incoming freshman, and his roommate Jace. They had been randomly assigned two years before and then decided to continue to live together in year two after hitting it off, and again in year three. Alec was a political science major, Jace still undecided, and Izzy was culinary science (a decision Alec had tried his damnedest to talk her out of).

               The day was warm and sunny, although the colors the trees were turning declared it wouldn’t be that way for long. He stretched in the August sunlight, yawning. As much as he loved waking up early and being out and about in the morning, it wore him out. He needed caffeine.

               Alec pulled his phone out of his pocket, firing a quick text to Jace— _meet at Java Jones in ten?_ —and adjusted one headphone to scratch the shell of his ear.

               “Hey!”

               At the sudden shout, Alec jerked his head up—just as he was barreled off of his feet and thrown into the grass.

               A girl shrieked from nearby, but it hardly registered to Alec. He landed hard on the ground, his headphones flying off and his messenger bag cushioning his spine. Whoever had hit him landed bodily on top of him, all sharp points in the worst places, and tumbled off, only to be replaced by something much less soft and much more in his face.

               “ _Fuck!_ ” he shouted, struggling to roll over and failing, as the strap of his bag was pulled tightly across his body and said bag was currently pinned by his body. He finally managed after some undignified thrashing, and rolled to his knees, pushing whatever had hit him in the face away.

               It was a boosted board, the motor still humming faintly and both sets of wheels spinning pathetically. The control was laying just to the side, and just past that, the board’s presumed rider.

               “What the _fuck_ did you think you were doing?” he demanded, on all fours with the heel of a hand pressed to his forehead.

               “Me!” Alec shouted, startled. “ _You_ hit _me!_ ”

               “Because you were walking in the middle of the sidewalk on your damn phone!” he retorted, looking up. Then they both stopped. Alec physically felt any coherent argument leave his brain as they locked eyes.

               The man was _gorgeous_. He had flawless olive skin with shining gold-green eyes, decorated with masterfully executed makeup. His hair was gelled into a gentle quiff, both sides shaved close to his head. He had a stunning amount of jewelry on, everything from rings and bracelets to earrings and a flashy gold chain around his neck, plus a small stud in his nose. He looked like a picture from a magazine of a male Gucci model.

               “William?” he whispered, barely audible.

               “Oh my God, are you guys okay?”

               The trance was broken at the voice, and he looked away and stood, brushing grass and dirt off of his jeans, then collecting his Aviators that had been discarded on the grass as well. He turned to the handful of people who had stopped, smiling brightly at them.

               “I’m fine, thank you for your concern,” he commented, blowing the girl who had asked a cheeky kiss. A couple of people laughed, and the crowd slowly dispersed with a few glances back.

               “H-Hey, wait,” Alec stammered, jumping to his feet as the other boy picked up his board and righted it on the sidewalk. His short-sleeve electric blue crop top, exposing a silver belly button piercing—Alec wondered exactly how many piercings this man had—was sharply contrasted by white high tops and beat-up denim skinny jeans with a black and silver belt. The strip of skin between the top and the jeans had swaths of ink curling up one side—some intricate tattoo. “You can’t just leave!”

               “What do you want to do, file a report?” he snarked, rolling those stunning eyes before putting his sunglasses over them. It was a complete 180 from the charismatic man who blew kisses at random girls. He put a hand on an angular hip, where his jeans sat low. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve got places to be.” He put a foot back on his board and turned away.

               “Listen,” Alec snapped, reaching out and taking his wrist in his hand. The other boy jerked and turned around, sharply pulling his arm back.

               “Look, if you’re _that_ concerned about a fender-bender,” he growled, “take it up with campus safety. The name’s Bane. Let me know when your attorney is ready.” Without another word, he pushed off and in less than a second was smoking away, both hands in the pockets of his jeans.

               Alec stood there for a minute, arm still outstretched as he watched him go. Then he put his hand to his mouth, frowning behind his palm. His face began to flush.

               _Wow. He’s really attractive._

               Then he shook himself. _No, he’s a real ass. It doesn’t matter how hot he is. He’s a dick._ Frustrated, Alec turned and headed off in the other direction, towards the coffee shop. _Running into me, who does he think he is…_

 

“It’s been more than ten minutes.”

               “What happened to your face?”

               Both of these statements were simultaneous as Alec threw himself into a chair across from Jace and beside Izzy in the lobby of Java Jones. He sighed, resting his chin in his palm.

               “Some bastard ran me over in the courtyard,” he muttered.

               “With a _car?_ ” Izzy gasped, horrified.

               “He’d be a paste if it was a car,” Jace soothed. “Probably a golf cart.”

               “Hardee-har-har,” Alec mocked. “A boosted board.”

               Jace whistled. “So you not only got the force of the board, but of the person as well. How hard did you hit your ass?”

               “I’m lucky I didn’t land on the sidewalk,” he responded by way of answer. “Iz, can I see your compact?”

               As she fished in her purse for it, Jace pushed a cup across the table. “They were out of hazelnut creamer, so I got the next best thing.”

               Alec took a sip and nearly recoiled as something akin to corn syrup flooded his mouth. He coughed, more from surprise than anything else. “What—”

               “Vanilla,” Jace supplied. “I also wasn’t sure how much you put in.”

               _Vanilla’s a sweetener, and hazelnut’s a flavorer,_ Alec thought frustratedly, but said, “Well, it’s the thought that counts.”

               Isabelle held her compact out. “Here. You can use some of that foundation too, if you want to cover it up.”

               “Is it that bad?” Alec asked, flipping it open and examining himself in the small mirror. Right in the center of his forehead was a bruise in an upside-down V-shape, right where the tip of the board had punched him. The grip tape had torn some of the skin off of the bridge of his nose and his forehead in an angle, but it thankfully wasn’t bleeding.

               _I’m going to have an awful bruise._ He sighed and snapped the compact closed. “Bastard’s the one who hit me, and he didn’t even get hurt.”

               “Do you know who it was?” Isabelle asked as Jace tore open a bagel Alec hadn’t noticed before.

               “He said Bane,” Alec recalled, thinking with a faint smile on his pretty features. He quickly suffocated the smile and turned it into a scowl. “Bit of an ass.”

               “Bane?” Jace asked, eyebrows raising. “Was he gay?”

               Alec flushed far too hard. “How am I supposed to know?” he demanded.

               “Well, the one fraternity I thought about rushing has a guy named Magnus Bane in it,” Jace explained, dipping a piece of his bagel into the small container of cream cheese. “Wears a lot of jewelry, bright clothes, _really_ gay?”

               “That sounds like him,” Alec finally conceded, rolling his eyes. “The clothes and jewelry part. I don’t know about the ‘gay’ part. I was too busy trying to keep him from yelling at me.”

               “Maybe you’ll see him when you rush, Jace,” Izzy suggested. “Beat him up for your roommate.”

               “I’ll do that,” Jace replied sarcastically. “Let me just beat up one of the upperclassmen in my first-choice frat. I’m _sure_ that’ll get me in.”

               “I’m thinking about rushing a sorority,” Isabelle put in.

               “No.”

               “Absolutely not.”

               Isabelle frowned as Jace and Alec spoke at the same time, almost before she had finished. “Well, why not? You two get to be in Greek life!”

               “I’m not, for what it’s worth,” Alec offered.

               “Because none of them would take Tall, Dark, and Awkward over here,” Jace replied, gesturing to his roommate, then laughing as Alec kicked him. “Kidding!”

               “I was _looking_ at Tau Epsilon Theta,” Isabelle continued as if they hadn't spoken.

               “That’s the most Legacy-driven sorority on campus,” Alec replied, shaking his head. “I guess I can’t stop you, but be aware you probably won’t get in. Plus, sorority girls are crazy. So are frat guys, for that matter,” he added to Jace, who shrugged.

               “ _Que sera sera,_ my brother.”

               Alec stole a piece of bagel before standing to go get his own. As he stood in line, turning his ID over between his fingers, he couldn’t help but think about the boy with the boosted board again. He also couldn’t help the tiny smile that appeared when he thought about him. Despite his asshole personality, he really _was_ quite handsome.

               Then he frowned and shook his head.  _No, Alec. This is how you get hurt again. Forget about him._

 

Magnus stormed into his design lab, tossed his board into the corner by the door, and threw himself down on his stool just as the professor began to speak. His best friend and former fuckbuddy Camille looked over at him with her eyebrows raised.

               “What’s gotten the Snow King in a mood?” she crooned condescendingly. He sneered at her.

               “Some bastard walked in front of me in the main courtyard and I crashed into him,” he muttered. “Then _he_ had the audacity to be mad at _me_.”

               “Did you stop to think that maybe it could _partially_ be your fault?” she suggested as they stood to gather their current works-in-progress. Magnus snorted.

               “Like hell it is,” he retorted, picking up his mannequin with his arm around its waist and balancing a large sewing kit on the other arm. “In my whole four years here, I’ve _never_ had an issue with people walking in front of me.”

               “I don’t know if you can call it a ‘whole four years’ since we’re just _now_ seniors,” Camille quipped. Magnus fought the urge to stab a needle into her hand. Instead, he picked up one that was still threaded and began to redo a stitch he had frustratedly torn out two days before.

               “Let’s talk about anything else,” he suggested. _Otherwise, I’m going to keep thinking about how pretty he was and how instead of flirting, I yelled at him. Jesus Christ, I don’t know how much dumber I can get. Not that I wanted to anyway,_ he quickly scolded himself. _He’s an asshole. Regardless of how pretty he is, he’s an asshole. Remember that, Magnus._

               “How are things in Delta Kappa Kappa land?” Camille asked instead, drawing him from his inner monologue as she plucked delicately at the feathers on her WIP hat.

               _Not really a better topic, but I’ll take what I can get._ “You know how rushing gets,” he sighed, then stepped back to look. “Does this stitch look crooked?”

               “I can’t imagine it’s as hard as rushing for sororities,” she replied. “No, it looks fine to me.”

               Magnus held his measuring tape up to it for good measure. “Yeah, you’re the new cult leader for Tau Epsilon Theta, aren’t you?”

               “I hate that you call us a cult,” she mulled. “DKK is worse than we are.”

               “If you recall, we beat your asses in the last Greek War.”

               “By technicality. We didn’t know fireworks were illegal.”

               “Woolsey wants me to be a big brother this year,” Magnus continued, “since I wasn’t last year.”

               “It’s not so bad, Magnus,” Camille replied, winding her thick hair up into a ball and using her pencil to hold it in place. “I’ve been a big sister for three years now.”

               “Yeah, but I hate people.”

               She shook her head, chuckling. “Better get over that, Snow King. In our line of work, we do nothing but deal with people.”

               “I’m going to be a hermit,” he declared, satisfied with the stitch and reaching for a box of sequins. “I’ll have a doggie door at the bottom of mine that I’ll shove designs through, and that people can push cheques back through. It’ll be a great existence.”

               “You’ll go crazy without takeout.”

               “Does that count as human interaction? Even if I get it delivered?”

               “Yes, Magnus.”

               He groaned. “Ah, the universe likes finding ways to throw wrench after wrench into my life, doesn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the two guys on the Oval at my university who plowed into each other, both on boosted boards, and were the inspiration for the opening scene.
> 
> Boosted Board - a skateboard with a motor, controlled with a handheld controller (think an RC car); usually goes faster than skateboards while taking up less energy. Transportation of choice for many skateboarding college students.


	2. Party at Delta Kappa Kappa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DKK's throwing a party, and our unlikely band of 'heroes' are attending. Less surprising, Alec's still brooding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Party scene's cut in half, since it's so long, and if I leave it on a cliffhanger you guys will have to come back ^w^;;

“Hey.” When he didn’t move, a pillow was thrown at him. “ _Hey_.”

               Alec finally rolled over from where he was splayed on his bed, book in hand. Jace was standing in the middle of the room, one hand on his waist with the other dangling loosely by his side.

               “What?” he asked. “If it requires me getting up, the answer is no.”

               “Not actively.” Jace sat on the edge of Alec’s desk. “Party tomorrow night at DKK.”

               “Isn’t that the frat you’re rushing?”

               He nodded. “It’s mainly for those of us who’re rushing. Woolsey Scott invited us at the informational today.”

               Alec pushed himself upright, replacing his bookmark. “I’m not rushing, though.”

               “No, but I figured _they_ don’t know that, and it’ll give you a chance to see your near-murderer again.” Jace grinned. “He’ll be there.”

               Alec’s face grew hot and he turned to look out the window. “I don’t know what makes you think I want to see him again, nor that the fact that he’ll be there will make me _want_ to go.”

               “Your red face says otherwise.” He caught the pillow as Alec flung it back at him. “Hey, even I can acknowledge that he’s hot.”

               “I do _not_ think he’s hot!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly, and before he realized the door to their dorm was still open. From across the hall, another door swung open and their hall neighbor poked his head in.

               “Who’s hot?” Jordan asked by way of greeting, looking like he’d just woken up. “Have you finally met someone, Alec?”

               “Alec met someone?” Simon, Jordan’s roommate, echoed, entering as well, his glasses in one hand as he cleaned them on the tail of his shirt. “Are you guys going on a date?”

               Alec buried his face in his own pillow and considered suffocating himself with it.

               “I didn’t meet anyone,” he groaned into the fabric.

               “One of the upperclassmen from the frat I’m rushing ran him over with a skateboard,” Jace supplied, much to Alec’s chagrin. His thoughts immediately switched to suffocating Jace. “Alec thinks he’s hot.”

               “I do _not!_ ” he insisted adamantly.

               “Is that where this came from?” Jordan asked, tapping his own forehead. Frustrated and thoroughly embarrassed, Alec flung himself back down on his bed, pulling his comforter to his shoulders.

               “I’m never telling you people anything,” he grumbled as they laughed behind him.

               “Oh yeah, guys,” Jace put in. “Party at DKK tomorrow night; we’re going. You down?”

               “I’m not going!” Alec shouted to deaf ears.

               “Sure,” Jordan shrugged while Simon looked thrilled.

               “I’ve never been to a frat party,” he said, grinning around the room. “What should I wear?”

               “Clothes,” Alec suggested as he sat back up, glad to no longer be the topic of conversation (albeit a little frustrated that he was essentially being bullied into going). Jace flung the pillow back at him.

               “It doesn’t matter what Simon wears,” Jace taunted, “but _you’ve_ gotta dress up nice. You’re going to be seeing your future boyfriend, after all!”

               Smartly, just as he finished the sentence, Jordan and Simon stepped to either side of the doorway to clear a path down the middle. Jace was running before Alec vaulted over the foot of his bed and was sprinting after him.

 

Magnus dipped another glass in a bowl of salt and was busy touching it up perfectly as Ragnor entered and hummed appreciatively at seeing the arrangement of margarita glasses lined up on the bar.

               “I figured I could find you here,” he commented. “Are you still mixing drinks?”

               “Of course,” Magnus replied, picking up a margarita shaker as if to prove his point.

               “You realize most of the pledgers are underclassmen?”

               “Of course,” he repeated, pouring some of the margarita into a tester glass and taking a sip. “Try some?”

               Ragnor sighed but took the glass anyway, polishing it off. “More cherry,” he suggested. “Anyway, it’s nearly eight. They should be here soon.”

               “How many people are we expecting? And how many members of sororities?”

               “A few.”

 

_A few means a few. This means a lot._

               Magnus was all for a good party. In fact, he was often the one to suggest, plan, and throw them. But _holy SHIT_ there were a lot of people here tonight. There was hardly room to move, and Magnus could swear he was going deaf from the music, the laughter, the shouting and the shrieking. It was chaos. _Almost like it’s the first big party of the year._

               _I love it._

               He squeezed past a couple locked in a sloppy, drunken embrace and headed for the kitchen, which had been labeled off-limits by the frat. He ducked into the relative quiet, slamming the rest of his beer and tossing the can into the recycling bin by the door. He was digging in the fridge for something stronger when someone else entered and a warm body pressed against his ass.

               He stood quickly and turned to find Camille leaning on the open door to the fridge, grinning devilishly at him. “Woolsey told me I could find you here,” she chuckled.

               “How drunk are you?” he asked immediately.

               “Only a couple of beers,” she sighed. “The rest of the sisters didn’t want to come, so I partook in a sad pregame at home until I got bored with drinking alone and showed up here, less drunk than I’d like to be.”

               “Beer, then?” he offered, plucking one from the fridge and passing it over.

               “Don’t have to ask me twice.” As she cracked it open, she said, “You haven’t been hiding in here all night, have you?”

               “Merely came in for a moment of respite, and to search for—aha!” Magnus reemerged from the fridge, triumphant with a bottle of vodka and one of tequila. “Shots, darling?”

               She threw her head back laughing, exposing a pulse-point jumping on her throat. “Magnus, you _fox!_ ” she cackled. “You know I’m always down for shots!”

               They each lined up half a dozen shot-glasses, which Magnus filled with the vodka. The bar was shaking faintly from the bass in the music, vibrating the liquor inside so it spun in dizzying patterns. Faintly, Magnus heard a laughing shriek.

               “First party of the year,” Camille said, raising her first shot. Their cups clinked and they threw them back, replacing the tiny glasses upside down.

               “Haven’t committed any murders so far,” Magnus continued. _Clink, gulp, clatter._

               “Haven’t slept with anyone,” she replied with an air of dejection. _Clink, gulp, clatter._ “Have you seen the boy you nearly killed with your skateboard?”

               “No. No all-nighters yet?” _Clink, gulp, clatter._ “Not since a couple of days ago.”

               “Maybe he’s here. There are quite a few people. No sewing accidents?” _Clink, gulp, clatter._

               “He doesn’t seem like a frat boy to me.” Magnus tipped his last shot toward her. “Cross me.”

               She fed him her shot and he his, and they simultaneously set these glasses down. Camille sighed and rested her chin in both palms, elbows on the bar, as Magnus tenderly flipped each glass over and refilled them. His body was beginning to burn pleasantly.

               “Not everyone out there is a pledger,” she replied coyly. “Maybe he’s out there anyway.”

               “Doesn’t seem like the party type either,” he commented dryly. “Seems more like the, ‘I’m going to wear my Beats so everybody _knows_ I’m ignoring you and prance about like I own the whole damn place’.” He set the nearly empty vodka bottle down a little harder than necessary. “I won’t be too upset if I never see that bastard ever again.”

 

Alec sneezed.

               “Gesundheit,” Jace said, his gaze trailing ahead of them. “DKK’s house should be just up here.”

               “And don’t take drinks from anyone you don’t know,” Jordan was telling Simon just behind them.

               “But I don’t know anyone,” he replied, confused.

               “Exactly. Get a beer that’s still sealed, open it yourself, and don’t set it down. If you do, don’t pick it back up. Get a new one.”

               Alec rubbed a finger under his nose. “Jace, I dunno about this,” he muttered as the house came into view. They heard it long before any details were distinguishable, and then saw the glow from far down the street. It was obviously the only house with a party tonight. “Parties aren’t my thing.”

               “Come on, it’s good for you to get out of your comfort zone every once in a while,” Jace insisted, pushing him good-naturedly. “This is your first party in three years of college. Gotta let loose and just—have some fun!”

               “Laying in bed with a cup of tea and a book is fun too,” he grumbled, but followed obediently up the steps of the massive Tudor-style house. The blond knocked, and Alec heard Simon whispering nervously to Jordan, and the other boy’s responding murmurs in turn.

               The door swung inwards, revealing flashing lights, throbbing music, and a tall boy with ropes of muscle in a button-up shirt and a neatly pressed tie. “Are you rushees?” he asked.

               “I am,” Jace said, immediately throwing the other three under the proverbial bus. Jordan sighed and Simon made a strangled noise. Alec frowned at his roommate. “These are my friends,” he offered.

               He shrugged. “Hey, the more the merrier.” He stepped aside and gestured them in. “Kitchen’s off-limits to anyone but frat brothers. Same for the upstairs. Have a drink, mingle, meet some people.”

               Alec followed Jace nervously, glancing around at the throbbing masses that seemed to fill the entirety of the house.

               “Name’s Woolsey,” the man at the door introduced, shutting it behind them. “Feel free to disperse and have a beer. They’re in the front room in the coolers, and we’ve got more if we run out of anything.”

               Alec turned to thank him and found him already gone. He sighed, turned back, and lost track of Jace too. His heart crawled into his throat. _Oh, for fuck’s sake, Jace, really? Already?_

               A hand touched his shoulder, nearly making him leap out of his skin, but it was just Simon, standing a little behind him. He pulled back when Alec jumped.

               “Sorry,” he shouted over the music. “Jordan and Jace went to find some beer.”

               “How do you know that?” Alec called back, feeling a little relieved to find a familiar face despite his dislike for the younger boy.

               “Woolsey said beer and pointed in—that—general direction, and they were immediately gone, so I’m assuming that’s where they went,” he amended. “Listen, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot during move-in, but do you want to stick—”

               “Yes,” Alec said immediately. “I could not be more out of my depth here.”

               Simon laughed in relief. “Oh, thank God. I’m really nervous. This is my first party.”

               “Same here,” Alec muttered, half to himself, and glanced around, his palms finding his elbows. _I remember now why I never came to these things._

               The two of them ended up silently weaving their way through the house and out the back door, where more music was throbbing through speakers high on stands, and people were milling about. A few were making out, some upperclassmen were lounging around a bonfire in the very back (which Alec presumed was illegal), and two girls were sitting on the deck, laughing and talking.

               “Want a drink?” Simon asked finally, nodding toward a cooler standing beside the girls. Alec murmured an affirmative and leaned on the railing, looking out over the backyard. It was fairly decently sized—maybe half an acre or so—and flanked in back by thick trees. The setting sun turned the whole scene shadowy reds and pinks, punctured by the back-porch lights of the house.

               Simon returned and handed him a can. “All they have are Seagram’s.”

               “A good bitch beer,” Alec murmured affirmatively, popping the tab. “I prefer Smirnoff Ice, or a good IPA, but this’ll do.”

               They stood there in silence for another moment before Simon cleared his throat. “So, uh… Is Isabelle your…?”

               “Sister, and also taken,” Alec replied. “She’s dating a guy from back home. Can’t stand him either,” he added after a moment.

               “Oh?” the freshman inquired, raising his eyebrows. “Is he an ass, or is it just because he’s dating your sister?”

               “Eh, a little bit of both,” Alec said with a shrug. “Mom and Dad don’t like him either, so Izzy refuses to break it off. She’s a rebel without any good cause.”

               Simon nodded slowly, pursing his lips as he took a thoughtful drink. “What about you?”

               Alec choked on his coconut-lime mouthful. “Wh—at?”

               “When we met, Jace did almost all of the talking for you two,” Simon recalled, bending the tab back and forth until it popped off between his fingers. “So I know plenty about him.”

               “What does it matter?” Alec asked sharply. He dropped his already empty beer can on the porch and crushed it viscously under his shoe.

               “I’m just curious,” Simon insisted, eyes widening. “I didn’t mean to—upset you.”

               “Whatever. I’m going to go find the bathroom.” Alec walked off, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shouldered his way back into the house. Inside, he was fuming.

               _What right does he have to ask about me?_ he thought furiously. _I didn’t pry into his life! And he’s got the balls to go prancing about after Isabelle? His nerve! I can’t believe I agreed to stick around with him._

 _Plus, what would he care about me?_ Alec scowled as a boy’s shoulder slammed into his, almost knocking him off-balance. _No one gives a rat about me._

               He blindly pushed through a door, completely missing the _DKK BROTHERS ONLY_ sign taped to it, and stepped into a well-lit room. Then he froze.

               There was a girl sitting on the bar, wearing a very low, very short pink and white dress. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and framed her breasts. Standing on the other side of the bar, though, frozen with a shot glass halfway raised, was the man who had run him over two days before. His eyes were locked on Alec and his mouth was parted in shock.

               “Well, _this_ is awkward,” the blonde girl drawled into the silence, tossing her head with the sort of fluid movement only lots of alcohol could induce. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Maggie?” 


	3. The Fabulous Magnus Bane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the party scene!

               “Well, _this_ is awkward,” the blonde girl drawled into the silence, tossing her head with the sort of fluidity only lots of alcohol could induce. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Maggie?”

               He closed his mouth. “Kitchen’s off-limits,” was what he said instead, before tossing his shot back.

               “Sorry that I wanted to get out of the chaos that’s happening out there,” Alec snapped, clenching his hands into fists to stop their shaking. _I’m too frustrated to deal with you right now._ “I’m not the party type.”

               “Then why are you here?”

               “Why does it matter?”

               “This party’s for rushees only,” he replied, batting the empty shot glass back and forth between his hands, much like a cat with a favorite toy.

               “There’s girls here too,” Alec snarked, crossing his arms tightly. “Something tells me _they_ aren’t rushees.”

               “ _My_ name’s Camille,” the blonde interrupted as Magnus started to reply. She leaned forward far enough that she almost slipped off the edge of the bar. “What’s your name, cutie pie?”

               Alec felt himself flushing. _Cutie pie?_ “Well—Alexander, but—everyone calls me Alec,” he stammered.

               “Well, _Al-ex-an-der_ ,” she enunciated, drawing out each syllable and then laughing aloud. It was a high, drunken sound, like wind chimes hit with a stick. “This—ball of charisma—is the Snow King.” She placed a hand on the other man’s chest. “ _Darling_ Magnus.”

               “Camille, please,” Magnus said through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you go find Woolsey?”

               She pouted, sticking out her lower lip like a child, but slipped off the edge of the bar and stumbled. It was suddenly very evident to Alec she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Ugh, fine,” she sighed, righting herself and pushing both hands through her hair. “But we still aren’t done with our game, Maggie.”

               She staggered out, making it through the other kitchen door (miraculously on the first try), humming and laughing the whole while. The door slammed behind her, leaving Alec and Magnus alone.

               “Nice bruise,” the latter noted, raising his eyebrows. Alec’s face burned.

               “Yeah, I wouldn’t have it if you knew how to ride a damn skateboard,” he growled. Magnus poured another shot, the liquor almost cresting the top of the cup as it sloshed from the bottle.

               “Do you want some alcohol?” he asked suddenly. It took Alec a second to register.

               “What?”

               “Alcohol,” he repeated. “I’m not sober enough to actively engage in banter with you and still win this argument. So I’m willing to put it on ice for now.”

               “Just because you won’t win?” he demanded, crossing his arms tightly. Jordan’s warning was throbbing in the back of his mind: _And don’t take drinks from anyone you don’t know._

               “Yes.” Magnus filled up another shot glass, nearly spilling it, and pushed it to the opposite edge of the bar. “Shots.” It wasn’t a question.

               Alec approached slowly, his heart in his throat and his stomach in his toes. “Why are you being nice to me?” he asked.

               “Well, I’m drunk, for one,” Magnus pointed out, taking his shot. The liquor spilled a little, trailing down the side of his mouth to the hollow of his throat. “Ah, fuck.”

               “I didn’t realize alcohol has the ability to change someone’s personality so wildly,” Alec commented, looking down awkwardly at the shot on his side of the bar. _Is this just vodka?_

               “I’m not usually a dick,” he insisted. Then he paused. “I mean…most of the time. You caught me on a bad day.”

               “That’s not really an excuse.”

               “What’s your last name?” he asked, drawing Alec to a halt.

               “Wh—Why?” he stammered, brow furrowing. _And as soon as I tell you, it’s going to be ‘Lightwood? Son of Robert Lightwood, the congressman?’ and then more asinine political chatter._

               Magnus’s eyes never left his face as he shook his head slowly. “You just…look like somebody I used to know.” His voice was very soft, hardly there, rounded at the edges like a dreamer’s.

               Alec looked away. “Chances are, we’re not related.”

               Magnus was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed. “And two: it’s been brought to my attention that you may not have been the only one at fault.”

               “Is this an apology?” Alec inquired. “Is that what you’re doing, apologizing?” _Because I’m still waiting for an ‘I’m sorry’ to leave your mouth._

               “Sure, call it that.” Turning, Magnus grabbed a slice of lime from a bowl and a smaller bowl with some white substance in it. “Do you not like vodka?” he asked, noting the untouched shot. “I have tequila.”

               “What’s all that for?” Alec asked instead, purposely ignoring the question.

               “ _Te-qui-la-cru-da,_ ” he enunciated, grinning like a kid. It lit up his face like a streetlight. Alec had to consciously tell his stomach to unknot itself. “Tequila training wheels, Camille calls it, but I like the way it tastes. See, you just put some salt”—he dropped a pinch of salt onto the back of his left hand, right where the joint of his thumb met his hand—“and then”—he filled his shot glass with the tequila—“and prepare your lime.”

               “That seems like a lot of work for one shot,” he replied, intrigued. _He’s completely different from the guy who ran me over yesterday. Maybe I judged him too quickly?_

               “It’s great.” In one fluid movement, Magnus licked the salt from his hand (raising another round of heat to Alec’s upper body), tossed back his shot, and took a bite from the slice of lime. He jerked his head, humming at the taste, and swallowed, throwing his head back. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned lowly.

               _Oh my God._ Alec’s insides shivered at the way the word rolled from his throat, and the shudders it sent down his spine. He grew very hot very quickly.

               “Can I try one?” Alec burst out without thinking. Magnus lowered his chin and tipped his head. Some of the salt crystals were clinging to his lower lip, sparkling in the fluorescent lighting.

               “Are you twenty-one?” he asked coyly. “I don’t serve alcohol to minors.” His eyes sparkled mischievously.

               “You’re part of the biggest party frat on campus, and you’re worried about supplying a minor?” Alec asked with a tender smile of his own. “I’m fairly certain most people here are minors.”

               “I can’t stop them from getting it out of the cooler, but I won’t pour it for them.” Magnus refilled his glass and pushed it to Alec. “Salt, then shot, then lime.”

               Alec mimicked the other man, putting a pinch of salt on the back of his hand and picking up the glass. “Cheers,” he commented, and then licked the salt off. It wasn’t as smooth as Magnus’s movement had been, and some of the granules fell to the counter, but he managed to get most of it. He tossed the shot and then sunk his teeth into the lime. The different flavors all exploded and almost made his eyes water, but he managed to swallow with only a couple of coughs.

               “Wow, that’s—really good,” he said, grinning fully.

               “Told you.” Magnus reached for a beer, and then hesitated and went for a bottle of water instead. “Do you need one?”

               “I’ve only had this shot and a beer,” Alec answered. He could feel the tequila warming in his chest, a very satisfying feeling.

               “Then you need this.” Magnus pushed him a sealed can. Something in the other room hit the floor hard enough to vibrate the entire kitchen. He sighed. “I do hope they’re not breaking anything.”

               Alec glanced at the can. _Another Seagram’s. Wonder if this is all they got._ As he popped the tab, he searched for something to fill the silence.

               Magnus beat him to it. “So, are you a rushee?”

               “My roommate is,” he replied, and inwardly winced. _Neither confirm or deny. Jesus, I really_ am _becoming my major._

               “Not what I asked.” Gold eyes studied his face unabashedly. Alec looked away. “Are _you_?”

               For some reason, Alec hesitated in saying no. He took a long drink of his beer to avoid answering and to buy time. _I’ve never considered myself to be a fraternity type, nor have I had any interest. But maybe that was just because I’ve never really known any other frat guys._

 _Even Magnus._ Alec took a moment to look him over. His high-waisted jeans covered up the belly button piercing he had seen the day before, and his electric green top was tucked into the pants. The tattoo Alec had seen before was hidden. _I guess he is super gay. How come Jace’s gaydar is more refined than mine?_

 _That doesn’t excuse him from the fact that he was an ass to me yesterday. Sure, he’s nicer now, but that could just be because he’s hammered, like he said. No,_ Alec decided. _If I decide to rush, it’ll be on my own terms. Not on this two-faced bastard’s. Even if he did give me alcohol._

               “Haven’t decided yet,” he finally said, earning an eyebrow raise.

               “Just as well,” Magnus sighed, finishing the rest of his drink. “You aren’t a fraternity type anyway.”

               _Okay, spoke too soon. I judged him just right._ “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Alec demanded, brow furrowing.

               Magnus looked startled. “Uh—simply that—” He crushed his water bottle flat and screwed the cap back on. His gaze flickered and he blinked a few times. “Just that—frat boys are a type—like—party boys.”

               “And I’m not?” Alec was faintly insulted. Despite the fact that he felt Magnus was correct, he was furious that the assumption would be made with such certainty. “You don’t know jack _shit_ about me to be making assumptions.”

               “But you said earlier—,” he tried, confused.

               “And I guess in order to be a frat type, I have to be flamboyant and covered in ink and rings, too, huh?” he demanded. “Sorry that we’re not all eager to go prancing around like every day’s Mardi Gras.”

               “No, I just meant—” Magnus exhaled, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Christ.”

               “No, here’s what _I_ meant.” Alec slammed the rest of his beer. “I’m going to rush your stupid fraternity, and I’ll _prove_ to you that I’m a frat boy, and that I can get into your—stupid frat. Just fucking _watch me._ ”

               “Will— N— Alexander—”

               “Whatever.” Alec dropped his can back onto the bar hard, almost crushing it. “I can’t believe I thought you were a nice guy.”

               Magnus looked wounded, but Alec didn’t care. He spun on his heel and stormed out. He was halfway out the door when he turned, looked him over, and spat, “And green’s an _awful_ color on you.”

               Magnus made a high-pitched sound like a dog being kicked, but Alec was already gone and slamming the door behind him.

               He ran into Jace in the hallway, who was currently flirting with a pale girl with a shock of red hair. He looked up as Alec came out, and his flirtatious smirk faded into a worried frown. “Alec?” he asked. “Are you—”

               “I’m going home,” he interrupted, trying to stop his voice from shaking. “I’ll see you there.”

               “What’s wrong?” Jace asked, reaching out. Alec ducked past his hand and pushed his way back through the crowd of people. “Alec!” he shouted, but the dark-haired boy was already off the porch, down the steps, and on the sidewalk before the front door even closed behind him.

               _Stupid Simon,_ he thought furiously, shoving his hands in his pockets and bowing his shoulders. _Stupid Magnus, stupid Jace. Stupid me for thinking I could have a good time here. Stupid me for saying I would rush. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

 

The party died around two a.m., and Magnus wasn’t anywhere to be found. Ragnor was starting to worry.

               The last time Magnus was MIA after a party, he ended up four blocks over trying to buy a horseback policeman’s horse with an empty liquor bottle and a dog toy that no one was sure where he’d found. Considering they hadn’t gotten any phone calls from irate neighbors, that meant that he was still on the property.

               The question was, where?

               He did a full sweep of the house, and then did another one. He stood on the back porch for a while, rolling an empty beer can under his foot as he looked out over the backyard.

               Then Ragnor realized that one of the chairs sitting near the dying fire was occupied.

               _Of course. He’s always found comfort in the dark._ He sighed and descended the stairs, shoving both hands in the go-between pocket of his sweatshirt as he approached. He found Magnus splayed in one of the lawn chairs, looking blankly into the fire. He glanced up as Ragnor approached.

               “Is green a bad color on me?” he rasped, words running together.

               _Wow, he’s boiled if he’s slurring._ “What makes you think it would be?” Ragnor responded, sitting in the chair beside his forlorn friend. Magnus threw his head back against the chair.

               “Alexander told me it was,” he groaned. “I was so mean to him, Ragnor. He’s so pretty. Why was I a dick?”

               “Was he a dick to you?”

               “Yes, but I was a dick _first._ ” Magnus threw the beer can in his hand. It bounced off the fire pit and rolled into the darkness. “He said I look bad in green! I love green!”

               “You don’t look bad in green,” Ragnor soothed. “He was just mad.”

               “I’m going to fuck it up again.” Magnus sounded like he was on the verge of tears. He struck his chair with both fists, akin to a child on the verge of a tantrum. “Ragnor, I’m _going to fuck it up again._ ”

               “No, you won’t,” he insisted, albeit unsure of what ‘again’ meant, but Magnus cut him off with a glare fierce enough to dry up the words on his tongue.

               “Remember William?” he mumbled, putting his face in his hands. “William Herondale.”

               _Oh, that’s what 'again' means._ Ragnor sighed. “Magnus, that wasn’t your fault.”

               “I loved him,” he whimpered. “And he didn’t want anything to do with me.”

               “Because he was straight.”

               “Then why did he kiss me?” Magnus sat up and almost pitched out of the chair. His shoulders shook and his breaths were ragged. “And why did I…? I pushed him away.” His voice became confused, and Ragnor could see wetness sparkling on his cheekbones. “Why did I do that?”

               He took a heavy breath, like it pained him. “Alexander looks…so much like him,” he whispered. “He looks… I thought it was him, Ragnor. I thought it was William—and it just _hurt_ ”—his voice broke—“all over again.”

               “Enough of this.” Ragnor stood and took Magnus’s elbow firmly in his hand. Magnus was too drunk to resist. “Come on, let’s go inside. We can talk about it more in there.”

               “You’re such a good friend,” he groaned, letting his full weight fall against Ragnor’s shoulder.

               “I know. Come on, time for bed.”

 

Alec was laying in bed when Jace stumbled in at 3 a.m. He heard him enter and the lights flickered on. There was a long pause before Jace went, “ _Fuck_ ,” under his breath, hurried back to the light switch, and the room went dark again. Another long pause and Jace called in a stage whisper, “Are you awake?”

               Alec was, but he didn’t answer. He lay there with his back to the room, a pillow hugged to his chest, staring at the wall.

               “Guess you’re not.” Jace continued to move about, now stumbling over things. “Well, I’m going to talk to you anyway.”

               Alec closed his eyes.

               “Met a girl,” he continued, sounding like he was getting undressed. “Her name’s Clary. She’s, like, childhood friends with Simon. He introduced us. She’s pretty, and can drink like any guy.” Then he paused. “Oh, wait. You know her. She’s Izzy’s roommate.” He paused for a little while longer. “Does that mean I’m, like…flirting with your sister? _Weird._ ”

               Letting Jace babble on drunkenly, Alec let his thoughts wander back to Magnus.

               After he had left, he had gone to a liquor store, bought a bottle of pinot noir, and sat at his desk drinking it straight from the bottle as he watched Netflix. Once his head had begun to spin, he’d recorked it and thrown himself on his bed with the intent to sleep.

               Every time he closed his eyes, the dark-haired man with gold-green eyes had flashed across the front of his mind. Alec had immediately regretted the jab at his clothes, especially after Magnus had made that awful distraught noise, but his pride was too strong to allow him to return and take it back.

               _He seemed so nice,_ Alec thought with a small sigh. _Maybe it was just the alcohol, like he said, but he really seemed genuine._

               _What makes you think anyone would care about you?_ a viscious voice at the back of his head growled. _Simon only hung out with you to get with your sister. Jace didn’t reciprocate your feelings—he didn’t even notice! And who could blame him?_

               The voice morphed into Robert Lightwood’s. _You’re disgusting. This phase you’re in is disgusting. You need to get over yourself. I didn’t raise you to be this way. You’re ruining our image._

               Alec put his hands over his ears, curling up tighter. _This isn’t a phase,_ he screamed in his head, echoing what he had tried to tell Izzy, despairing and desperate for validation. _This is who I am._

               _Who you are is disgusting._

               Alec sat up suddenly, breathing hard. Jace spun, words stumbling into silence.

               “You okay?” he asked, tripping over something on the floor and landing heavily on his bed. “I didn’t wake you, did I?’

               “N-No,” Alec stammered, unsure of which question he was answering. He pressed his fingertips to his forehead. “I’m just—not feeling well.” He kicked his blankets off, head swimming as he stood. “I’ll be back.”

               He staggered out into the hallway, squinting in the sudden brightness. He scowled at Simon and Jordan’s door, which was closed and presumably locked, and made his way unsteadily to the hall bathroom.

               He thankfully ran into no one, and he ran cold water as he bowed over the sink, thrusting both hands under the stream. The shock sent chills up his arms and numbed his fingertips. It cleared his head and he exhaled heavily, watching the water pool in his palms and run between his fingers, splashing in the porcelain bowl.

               _Don’t you dare let me down, Alexander._

               Alec looked up at himself in the mirror—his uneven black hair, messy from his tossing and turning; eyes ringed with sleepless circles; sharp cheekbones in an angular face—and set his jaw.

               _I won’t._

               Ten minutes later, he pushed the door to their dorm open, hard enough that it bounced off the wall. Jace, laying in the dark on his phone, arched his neck to look up. One leg was dangling off his bed, and his blonde hair was wild.

               “I’m rushing Delta Kappa Kappa,” Alec announced. Jace sat up slowly, although less from surprise and more from drunkenness, Alec suspected.

               “Come again?”

               “I’m rushing with you,” he repeated. Jace squinted at him.

               “Why? You’ve never been interested in Greek life,” he reminded his roommate.

               “I want to prove I can.”

               “To who?”

               Alec didn’t answer, _couldn’t_ answer, not honestly—because he didn’t know. He wanted to prove to himself he could; he wanted to prove Magnus wrong; he wanted to prove to his father that he wasn’t a disappointment. But none of those reasons stuck out as prevalent in his mind.

               “I said I would,” he amended, and immediately questioned what part of him decided that was better.

               “To _who?_ ” Jace repeated, even more confused.

               “Look, that doesn’t matter.” Alec shut the door and threw himself back down on his bed. “Take me with you whenever you do another thing for DKK.”

               “Sure,” Jace responded, still sounding uncertain. “Alec, are you sure? Is this just the party talking? How much did you have to drink?”

               “It’s not the party, Jace.” Alec smiled into the darkness, hands behind his head. “I think it’ll be fun.”

               “You’re scaring me, man.”

               “Look.” Alec pushed himself up onto one elbow. Through the crack at the bottom of their curtain, yellow street light poured in. It illuminated the room just enough that Alec could see Jace’s eyes reflecting it. “If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I’ll quit if I end up not wanting to do it. But as of right now, I want to do it.”

               “Whatever.” Jace lay back down. “I’ll let you know.”

               _At least now I’ve got something to do._ Alec stared up at the ceiling, falling to his back. He slipped a thumbnail between his teeth. _And I might surprise myself. Who knows?_

 _Maybe it_ will _be fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually proud of myself for like....sticking to my update schedule so far.


	4. Inner Turmoil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of angst here.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming to our second informational!” Woolsey called, arms spread wide. Magnus rolled his eyes, turning his ring on his index finger.

               “I don’t see why we had to come,” he grumbled to Ragnor, at his left.

               “All of the senior brothers are here,” Ragnor soothed, tearing off another piece of the cookie in his hands and holding it out to Magnus. “Bite?”

               Magnus shook his head. “I’ve had my fair share of those cookies. I am looking at those crackers and cheese, though.”

               They were sitting at the front of the classroom that Woolsey had reserved for the informational. The room was packed with potential rushees—mostly underclassmen, but Magnus recognized a few faces from his junior and senior general education classes. Woolsey’s kid brother Ralf was perched in the front row, a freshman this year. He was Legacy and therefore not required to rush, but he insisted on having the ‘full rushing experience’.

               It was the Tuesday after their house party, and Magnus had gone all weekend without seeing Alexander—which he was embarrassed to admit he was thankful for. Most of that night was a blur, but he knew he must have said something awful to him, because he had a very vivid memory of changing his shirt in a fit of drunken tears, all the while cursing the color green.

               Woolsey began speaking, which Magnus immediately tuned out, and turned his attention instead to the dessert table. He was determined to reach the snack table without leaving his chair.

               He was tipped up on two legs, stretching, an inch from the tray of crackers and cheese, when the door at the back of the room opened, drawing attention.

               “Sorry we’re late!” the blond at the front laughed. “Class went long, you know how it is.”

               Magnus looked up, and his chair immediately crashed to the floor, taking him with it. A ripple of laughter passed through the room, but it hardly registered. Shock throbbed through his body as he caught the eyes of the boy behind the blond—blue eyes like frozen bottle-glass.

               _What is Alexander doing here?_ he screeched in his head, collecting himself and righting his chair with a foot. The two of them took seats at the back of the room. He arched his head as Ragnor pulled him back into his seat, trying to catch Alec’s eye. The dark-haired boy met his gaze for a couple of seconds before looking down, then back at Woolsey.

               “Ragnor.” Magnus slapped at his friend’s knee, earning a hiss of discontent. “Ragnor, _that’s him. That’s Alexander._ ”

               “I never took blondes to be your type,” he snapped.

               “Not the blond, moron,” Magnus hissed back. “His friend. The dark-haired one.”

               Ragnor sighed, shaking his head. “He even _looks_ like William, doesn’t he?”

               “What?” Magnus asked, only half-listening anymore.

               “Nothing at all.”

               _Why is he here?_ he thought, still reeling. _He’s not the fraternity type. Unless…_

               _I’m going to rush your stupid fraternity, and I’ll prove to you that I’m a frat boy, and that I can get into your—stupid frat. Just fucking watch me._

_Oh. Oh, no._

               “Don’t tell me you’re rushing because of me,” Magnus breathed, hardly an exhale. He put a hand to his mouth, biting his lip. “Oh, no.”

 

“Woolsey.” As soon as the informational disbanded and the contact list was set on a desk at the front of the room, Magnus seized his arm and pulled him aside. “Woolsey, I need you to do me a favor.”

               “Oh, the fabulous Magnus Bane is asking _me_ for a favor? Whatever did I do to earn this privilege?” he asked sarcastically, eyes sparkling with amusement.

               “While I agree with the ‘fabulous’ statement, I take full offense to the rest of that sentence. Regardless.” Magnus spun so his back was to the crowd of rushees. Woolsey turned with him. “There’s a boy with black hair and blue eyes, with the blond-boy-wonder.”

               Woolsey’s eyes trailed over his shoulder. “Yeah, I see him.”

               “Don’t let him rush.”

               Shock colored his expression, and his intense green eyes returned to Magnus’s face. “What?”

               “The only reason he’s rushing is because I insulted him at the party,” Magnus explained hastily. “I take full responsibility for that. But he’s not a fraternity type. He’ll get eaten alive.”

               “Magnus, I can’t just tell people not to rush,” he responded, brow furrowing in confusion. “If he chooses to sign up, that’s his call.”

               “Okay, then—then let him rush, and don’t bid for him.” Magnus felt a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

               “Magnus, I don’t care how little you like him, I can’t throw the rushing system just because you ask me to. That’s my final say.”

               “Woolsey—”

               “That’s _final._ ” His voice took on a harder edge that shut Magnus up immediately. “I don’t want you hazing him, either. I mean it, Magnus. I’ll be keeping an eye on you and this boy as we go through this process.” He walked off to talk to a group of freshmen who were nervously clustering around the snack table.

               Magnus turned to find Alexander staring at him, eyes narrowed. His blond friend was bent over the clipboard, and turned to hand Alec the pencil. He broke eye contact, quickly scribbled his name, and let the utensil lay on the table. Then, with a final cold look back at Magnus, he jerked his chin away and followed the other out of the room.

               _What have I gotten myself into?_ he thought frustratedly.

 

“I hate this,” Alec bitched two weeks later.

               “They’re cute!” Isabelle exclaimed, clapping her hands together as she perched on Alec’s desk—apparently, peoples’ favorite place to sit.

               “This isn’t my color,” he said exasperatedly.

               “I think they look good,” Jace replied, turning around in the mirror. They had just gotten their Delta Kappa Kappa shirts—“nalia”, Woolsey had called them, “short for paraphernalia.”—and they were a vibrant royal purple. Alec hated anything that wasn’t black.

               They had also gotten sweatpants, although those _were_ black, so Alec could concede on those.

               “Did you know DKK also stands for Donkey Kong Country?” Simon offered.

               “Country starts with a ‘C’, moron,” Jordan snorted.

               “Well, it _should_ have started with a ‘K’. For continuity.”

               “Which, ironically, _also_ starts with a ‘C’,” Clary laughed.

               The six of them were all stuffed into Jace and Alec’s room, because that was evidently the place to be, much to Alec’s dismay. Jordan was sitting in a wheeled chair in the doorway, scrolling boredly through his phone. Clary was stretched out on Jace’s bed, drawing in a sketchbook.

               Alec hadn’t seen Magnus since that day at the informational—not even passing him on his way from class. He wondered if the other man had taken to another route. _Not that I want to see him_ , he thought quickly. _He didn’t have any reason to be staring at me during the informational_ anyway. _I told him I was going to rush. He could have at least believed me._

               “Did you get one?” Simon asked Isabelle, drawing Alec back to the present. She shook her head.

               “Ours are still on order,” she responded.

               “Your what?” Alec asked immediately, thoughts jerked from Magnus. The entire room stopped and looked at him.

               “I thought you told him,” Clary burst out, craning her head to look at Isabelle.

               “You told _me,_ ” Simon put in.

               “Izzy,” Alec said, a bit of a warning tone creeping into his voice. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

               “I’m rushing Tau Epsilon Theta,” she relented. “We put in orders for nalia about a week after you—”

               “I told you not to!”

               Alec wasn’t aware he had shouted the words until he saw the entire room viscerally respond, startled. Izzy’s eyes widened, smartly snapping her mouth shut.

               “Why is it a big deal?” she asked, startled.

               “Because sorority girls are _crazy,_ ” he emphasized. “What are you going to do when they try to get you to do something you don’t want to do?”

               “Like what?” Fire was returning to her gaze.

               “Like—I don’t know, something!” Alec gestured vaguely into the air.

               “Then I’ll stand my ground, like I am now. Besides, you’re a _hypocrite,_ Alec,” Izzy snapped, rising to her feet. “You can’t bitch about sororities and then rush the _biggest party fraternity_ at NYU!”

               “This is different,” he defended, crossing his arms.

               “How?” she demanded.

               “And anyway, TET is usually Legacy-only,” he continued frustratedly.

               “Shocker, they’re letting me rush,” she snarked.

               “No, Izzy, I’m putting my foot down,” Alec insisted. “You’re going to get eaten alive. If DKK is the party frat, then TET is the party sorority. They’re just as bad, if not worse.”

               “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do!” Izzy shouted, stomping one booted foot. It rang like a gunshot. Her hands clenched into fists. “This is just like with Meliorn!”

               “I’ve told you how I feel about him, too,” Alec snapped. “He’s not good for you.”

               “Oh, sorry, I guess I forgot who I was talking to, _Dad._ ”

               _Ow._

               Jace sucked in a sharp breath. That was the only movement in the room.

               Alec took a step back. “I-I—”

               Izzy turned and stormed out of the room. Jordan hurriedly wheeled out of her way. Clary called her name, abandoning her sketchbook as she took off after the other girl. Alec sat down heavily, still reeling. The four boys sat there in silence, Jordan and Simon exchanging silent looks and seeming like they were about to take off out the door after the girls at any point.

               “As much as I hate to agree,” Jace broke the silence with, “but Izzy _is_ her own person, and you _are_ kind of a hypocrite.”

               _I guess I forgot who I was talking to, Dad._

               “I know.” Alec pressed his fist to his forehead. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ “I-I know.”

 

Izzy threw herself down in the floor’s common room, which only had one boy with headphones on sitting in the corner. He barely glanced up as she sulked.

               _Who does Alec think he is, telling me what I can and can’t do?_

               Clary sat down across from her, her brows pulled together. She tucked her hair behind one ear. “Hey, are you okay?”

               “No!” she burst out. “I get that some sorority sisters can be nuts, but everyone in Tau Epsilon Theta is _really_ sweet! And Alec is rushing DKK—which is _literally so much worse_ than my choice! He doesn’t have any ground to stand on to tell me I can’t rush! Legitimately _exactly zero!_ ”

               “He’s probably just worried about you,” Clary soothed. Izzy crossed her arms and stared out the fifth story window. “He seemed upset when you made the ‘Dad’ comment at him,” she continued.

               “I shouldn’t have done that,” Izzy admitted with a sigh. “Alec and Dad haven’t gotten along for a couple years.”

               “Is it because Alec’s gay?”

               The question startled Izzy, making her turn back. “What?”

               Clary raised her brows. “I mean, if he’s not—”

               “No, I mean, you’re _right_ ,” Izzy insisted. “It’s just not—something people usually guess.”

               She looked out the window again. “Dad hates it. Mom’s…a little more accepting. When Alec came out, she kind of took a neutral stance. Alec and Dad fought about it—like _really_ fought—and their relationship was never the same. Dad will make comments to him about it, and it’s made Alec really insecure and anxious about himself, and especially about his sexuality.

               “So when I called him Dad—I’m sure it _did_ upset him. I shouldn’t have ever said it. It just kind of—came out before I could stop myself.” She bit her lip. “Dammit.”

               “Alec will understand,” Clary insisted, smiling. “Listen, do you want to go get a coffee or something to cool down?”

               She sighed. “Yeah, I guess so, although I’d prefer a beer over a coffee.”

               Her companion laughed softly. “Wouldn’t that be nice. Come on—it’s on me.”

 

“Hey, are you okay?”

               Alec flung his DKK shirt onto his bed with a flash of sudden disdain. _I hate purple._ “Sure.”

               Jace frowned at him. “Come on, where are you going?”

               “To work out.” Alec pulled on a beat-up t-shirt and began to undo his belt. “I haven’t been in a while.”

               “We went yesterday.”

               “Well, I want to go today.” His voice sharpened. “Don’t come with me if you don’t want to.”

               “Did Izzy’s comment really get under your skin that badly?” he asked.

               Alec tossed his jeans, belt still wound through, into his closet, where it hit the wall with a clatter. He bent to search for a pair of athletic shorts. “No.”

               “You’re lying to me.” Jace sighed. “Listen, I know the last thing you want is to be compared to your dad, and I admit that Izzy was out of line, but so were you.”

               _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ Alec had to physically fight the urge to put his hands over his ears. “I _know_ ,” he snapped, almost cutting Jace off. “I’m going to the gym.” He snatched his earbuds off of the desk as he stalked past.

               “Alec, come on, wait,” Jace tried, stumbling off of his bed. Alec slammed the door between them hard enough that it shook in its frame, storming down the hall. He heard the door open behind him, heard Jace shout his name, but he threw his earbuds in and ducked into the stairwell, pounding down the five flights of stairs.

               _I shouldn’t be so hard on myself,_ he thought, swinging around the banister. _Mom doesn’t care that I’m what I am. Neither does Izzy, or Jace. It’s just Dad._

_But then, if I’d never come out, Dad would still love me. We’d still do things together._

               Alec stumbled over the steps but stayed upright.

               _Are you proud of me yet?_ he asked a man who wasn’t there. _I’m following in your footsteps. I’ve even got an internship lined up in the Statehouse for the summer. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Someone to be proud of, someone who you could take to meetings and show off—“look at my son, isn’t it great what he’s doing?”_

               He burst out into the sunlight, breathing hard. He immediately broke into a warm-up run, feet pounding the sidewalk in time with his pulse.

               _I’m even going to be in a fraternity like you were. It might not be a business fraternity, or an honors’ one like Mom, but it’ll be a good way to get my name out there. Alexander Lightwood, future politician._

               _If only you weren’t a disgrace._

               Alec stumbled again, tripped over his own shoelaces, and slowed to a walk. He bent double, elbows on his knees, as he took a few gasping breaths. Then he knelt to tie his shoes.

               _I can find a girlfriend. I can be happy like that. I can find someone who Dad won’t hate me for._

               He stood and kept running, this time turning his music up loud enough that he wasn’t able to think past it. His heart still pounded, rapping the word over and over as he counted every step.

               _Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight._

_Stu-pid, stu-pid, stu-pid._

Alec shouldered through the door of the athletic center, backhanding sweat from his eyes. He dropped a nod to the boy behind the counter and went right for the stairs, taking them two at a time up to the third floor.

               It was fairly empty, as most people didn’t work out on Wednesday afternoons, which gave Alec essentially any choice of equipment. He went for a bench, examining the weights already settled on the bar.

               He was taking off some of the weight when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, startled, to find someone who looked vaguely familiar. He had snow-white hair and dark eyes, each stark against the other, and against his tan skin. He smiled awkwardly, spinning his headphones absently in one hand.

               Alec yanked out one earbud. “Sorry, are you using this?”

               “No, no. I just wanted to say hey.” He held out a hand. “Name’s Ragnor Fell. I’m one of the senior brothers in Delta Kappa Kappa. I recognize you from the informational.”

               Alec shook his hand. “Alec Lightwood.”

               “Lightwood?” He tipped his head, and Alec braced himself for the imminent questions about his father.

               Instead, Ragnor made an inquisitive noise and said, almost distractedly, “I thought it was Herondale.”

               _Uh—what?_ “That’s—my roommate,” he responded, rubbing the back of his head with his fingertips. “People don’t usually confuse us. We couldn’t be more different, honestly.”

               “No, you’re right,” Ragnor said, shaking his head. “That’s my bad. I’m awful with faces. I just recalled the name being put on the clipboard, and my mind connected the two.” He glanced behind Alec at the bench-press, which was currently loaded with 150 pounds of weight. “Do you need a spotter?”

               “No, I have—” He cut himself off. _Shit, Jace isn’t here._ “Actually, yeah, if you don’t mind. My usual spotter didn’t come with me.”

               Alec, satisfied with the weight, settled himself down on the bench, bracing his hands in line with his shoulders. Ragnor’s tanned hands moved to the outside of the bar, not touching but there, in case Alec’s grip slipped.

               “How many reps do you want to do?”

               “I usually do three—a 12-10-8 set,” Alec replied. Ragnor nodded once as Alec lifted the steel bar out of the uprights. His muscles, still sore from his workout the day before, throbbed in protest, but it lent him determination.

               “Can I ask—your roommate, what’s his name?”

               “Jace,” Alec grunted out, lowering the bar almost to his chest before pushing it back up.

               “Herondale isn’t a common last name,” Ragnor commented. “Does he have a brother?”

               “Not as far as we know. Why?”

               “I used to know a boy by the name of William Herondale.”

               Alec let out a sharp breath, his elbows shaking as he nearly dropped the bar. Ragnor caught it before it fell all the way, releasing it as Alec adjusted his grip and pushed it back up.

               “Sounds familiar,” he managed through gritted teeth. “Maybe a cousin, or something.”

               Ragnor didn’t respond. “That’s twelve,” he said, and let Alec return the bar to the uprights for a moment of respite. “You’re good at this.”

               “Can I ask you something, Ragnor?” Alec asked. The other boy nodded, crossing his arms. Alec stretched his arms over his head, examining the way the fluorescent lighting poured through his fingers. “You must know Magnus Bane.” The name tasted foreign, and sent chills down his back.

               Ragnor chuckled. “He and I are very old friends. You could say I know him.”

               Alec’s brows twitched together for a brief moment as he thought about their collision in the courtyard, and then at the party. “I don’t know him very well. But twice—he called me William.”

               Ragnor looked away.

               “Is that the same William Herondale you asked about?”

               “You look very much like him,” he responded. “That’s why _I_ asked. I thought there was no way you two could look so similar and not be related.”

               Alec clenched his fists. “Did Magnus know him too?”

               “Come on, let’s do another rep before your muscles lock up.”

               Alec frowned at the obvious question-dodging, but reminded himself that Ragnor didn’t owe him any sort of explanation. He regripped the bar.

               “Ready?”

               “Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Magnus's relationship with William was? I want to hear your thoughts, and then I'll expand more on mine in the next chapter ;)


	5. Drawing Parallels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst here, and a look into the mind of The Fabulous Magnus Bane (TM)

Alec returned to his dorm two hours later, muscles burning pleasantly and feeling far better. He pushed into his room, itching for a shower, to find a half-naked Jace laying on his bed, a highlighter in his mouth and a textbook open in front of him. He glanced up at Alec, then reached for his Bluetooth speaker, shutting it off.

               “Done sulking?” he asked. Before Alec could prove him wrong, he sat up and swung his legs off of his bed. “Because these just came.” He picked up an envelope from their shared bedside table and tossed it like a Frisbee. Alec caught it and examined the lavender envelope.

               “Jesus, they really like purple, don’t they?” he commented, examining the DKK logo scrawled on the back in ink, just above his name and dorm address. He tore it open, pulling out a small greeting card.

               “I’ll save you the time,” Jace commented, hands gripping the edge of his bed. “Dinner party Friday. It’s the last event before Bid Day.”

               “Twenty bucks says I won’t get a bid,” he sighed, tossing the unopened card on his desk.

               “What makes you say that?”

               “One of their most popular senior brothers hates my guts, for reasons I still can’t decipher,” he replied, dropping in his wheeled desk chair. They sat there in silence for a moment before Alec cleared his throat. “Hey, uh… Do you have a cousin or someone named William?”

               Jace paused for a long moment, gold eyes fixed on Alec’s, before dropping his gaze. “Yeah, uh… William was, like, my third cousin or something.”

               Alec didn’t miss the past tense, and pointed it out.

               “Yeah.” Jace put his hand on the back of his neck. “He wasn’t a big family guy—he and his parents had a falling out when he was young, and they never really recovered. His sophomore year in college, he went to London on a study-abroad, and…didn’t come back.”

               “Like—he died?” Alec’s stomach knotted.

               “That would have been easier on my family,” Jace sighed. “No, he met some broad and stayed there with her and his childhood friend, who was originally from London—something Carstairs. We haven’t heard from him since. He might as well be dead.”

               _I used to know a boy by the name of William Herondale._

               Alec looked down. “Jace, I’m sorry.”

               He shrugged. “I never knew him well. I just know what Dad told me about him.” He stood up. “I’m going to get dressed and go meet Clary for dinner. Care to join?”

               “I’d hate to third-wheel on your date,” Alec taunted, earning a grin. “Plus, I want to shower and change. I’ll find my own dinner.”

 

_Guess dinner’s just pinot noir and popcorn…again._

               After his shower, Alec hadn’t had the energy to leave the dorm again, and instead made a bag of microwave popcorn and uncorked his bottle of wine. He sat with a blanket around his shoulders, playing Netflix without headphones and matching handfuls of popcorn with swigs from the bottle.

               He was just about done with picking popcorn from the bag when his phone lit up with a text from Isabelle. _You home?_

               Alec sighed through his nose. _She must still be upset over earlier._ Izzy never usually asked if she could come over—she often just showed up. He sent a one-word response in an affirmative.

               He stood, stretched, and decided he should probably put on pants if his sister was coming. He turned to his closet, which was a mess, and interlocked his hands behind his head. _I don’t even have the energy to clean it._

               Alec sat on the edge of Jace’s bed, still staring into his closet. Izzy’s voice rang faintly in his head, scolding. _You know you always forget to clean when you get into this state. Just pick up some things. You’ll feel better._

               He looked away. _That’s great and all, but I don’t have the energy to._

               A soft knock sounded, drawing him from his thoughts, and he sat there staring at the door for a long moment. Before he could call out, Izzy pushed in. Her gaze was carefully avoided.

               “Alec, I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

               “I kind of deserved it,” he admitted. “I don’t have any reason to tell you who you can and can’t see. I just worry about you.”

               “Worry about yourself,” she grumbled, but offered a small smile. “So—friends?”

               “Of course, stupid.” Alec stood up and held out his arms. Izzy grinned and rushed forward to envelop him in a tight hug, her forehead pressed against his collarbone. He put his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head.

               _She smells like home._ Alec heard some of the constant whispering in his head start to hush, as if silenced by an outside force. _She smells like what I want home to be._

               “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Tau Epsilon Theta either,” Izzy added. “I was frustrated when you told me I shouldn’t rush, and figured I would rub it in if I got in, despite what you said.”

               “Now who’s an ass?” he joked, earning a laugh. Izzy pulled back, grinning at him. She looked to the side, looking about to speak, but then she caught sight of the (albeit contained) mess on his half of the room. Clothes were scattered over every available surface, interspersed with various papers that he had dug out of his backpack and flung to the side. His trashcan was overflowed, and a sixer of empty beer bottles sat beside it.

               Izzy frowned. “Alec,” she began.

               “Look, I don’t want to hear it,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

               She looked back at him. Her gaze softened. “Is it getting bad again?”

               Alec turned away, taking a seat on his own bed. He didn’t answer.

               “Here.” Izzy picked up the pinot noir, took a long drink, and recorked it. “Take your popcorn.”

               “What about my wine?” he asked, fumbling for the bag as she tossed it at him.

               “This afternoon, it was over half full. I’m not sure there’s even a glass’s worth left now.” Izzy returned it to the lower drawer of his desk. “You can finish it later.”

               “What are you doing?” he inquired, making no move to stop her.

               “Cleaning.” She began to dig through his piles of clothes, sinking to her knees. “You’ll feel better once it’s not so messy.”

               He watched her. _Thank you_ was lingering at the front of his mind, but his tongue wouldn’t form the words, so he just sat there.

 

“I ran into Alexander at the gym today.”

               “That’s nice,” Magnus mumbled grumpily, running cold water over his throbbing fingertips. “Did you tell him he’s a dick?”

               Ragnor sighed. “Magnus, level with me. Why do you have such an animosity toward him?”

               “I don’t hate him—who told you I hated him?” he demanded, turning the dial on the stove to OFF somewhat harshly. The skillet on the stove began to sizzle more softly, and he stirred the stir fry with some frustration.

               “You, just now.”

               Magnus glanced at the window over the sink, and at Ragnor’s reflection in it. He hadn’t changed from his gym clothes—a white cutoff shirt and red basketball shorts—and stood leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed.

               “Is it because he reminds you of William?”

               Magnus sighed, putting his elbows on the counter and dropping his face into his hands. “I don’t know. I guess you could say that.”

               Ragnor was quiet for a long moment. “You’re taking it out on him.”

               Magnus stared down at the counter. _Am I?_

               “You’re still furious at William for abandoning you, despite whatever it may have been that you had,” he continued, “and Alexander reminds you of him. Magnus, I saw it too. He’s the spitting image of William.”

               _I know._ Magnus knotted his fingers in his hair. _I know he is._

               “That’s what it is, isn’t it?” he pressed. “You can’t tell William everything you want to—you can’t make him hurt like he made you hurt—and so you’re going to take it out on Alexander just because of how he looks. I’m right, aren’t I?

               “He’s an innocent, Magnus. He didn’t hurt you. William did. You’re so afraid of, to use your drunken words, fucking it up, but if you ask me, it looks like you’re fucking it up by pushing him away.”

               “Yeah, and the last time I let someone get close, he ran off to _London_ ,” Magnus finally spoke. “And he didn’t even tell me.”

               “Something tells me Alec isn’t the type to run off to London.”

               “Neither was William.”

               “Get over yourself,” Ragnor sighed, shaking his head. “He didn’t owe you anything.”

               Magnus spun on his friend. “I _loved him_ , Ragnor,” he shouted. “I thought we _had_ something. I thought I was important enough to come back to! He didn’t even _know_ Tessa Gray when he decided to stay there with her. And James didn’t even _begin_ to try to stop him. So, no, Ragnor, I’m _going_ to keep pushing Alexander away, because I can’t let myself get hurt like that again!”

               He stopped, breathing hard. Ragnor’s gaze was focused on the counter, nodding slowly.

               “Are you done throwing your tantrum?” he asked finally. Magnus refused to dignify that with a response. He turned away, pressing a hand into his face and struggling to swallow the sob that sat at the front of his throat.

               “Okay, now listen to me.” There was a scrape like a barstool had been pulled out. “Yes, what William did was wrong. I know you’re hurt. I know it hurt you, and I know it took you a while to be able to accept it. But Magnus, if you refuse to let yourself move past it, you won’t be able to recognize when you care for someone else the same way.”

               “I don’t care for him,” he grumbled.

               “Maybe you would, if you let yourself. He’s bright, quick to the punch, and exactly your type.”

               Magnus grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and tipped his stir fry into it. His appetite was suddenly gone.

               “Get to know him a little,” Ragnor offered. “At the dinner on Friday. See if you guys have anything in common.”

               _I can’t believe I thought you were a nice guy._

               “I don’t know if he’ll want to talk to me,” Magnus sighed. “I’ve already squandered any chance I might have had.”

               “The Magnus Bane I know wouldn’t take that for an answer, now would he?” Ragnor stood. “I’m going to go shower. Just think about it, alright? I hate watching you mope about.”

               He started to leave, and then he turned back. “When you saw him at the informational, you lit up in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. You seemed more like yourself again. I think you deserve to see that too.”

               Magnus stood there staring at his bowl of stir fry long after Ragnor had left. He eventually just stuck it in the fridge and went to his room.

 

_Magnus bid the other brothers goodbye as he bounded down the porch stairs, pulling his sunglasses on. Fall had long been his favorite season. His board hit the street and he hopped astride, shooting away without a care._

_It was the beginning of his senior year at NYU, and he was determined to make it the best one yet. Three weeks in was already proving this semester to be one of his easiest—a couple of fashion design labs, a thesis class, and lots of free time._

_Magnus banked hard, wheels skidding on a patch of gravel, as he rounded the corner of the street. The Greek community was already far behind him, and the student union was visible. Magnus stretched, letting his hand off the throttle of his board for a moment so he didn’t fall._

Things are starting to feel right again.

_He smiled, bending his knees as he moved from the street to the sidewalk to not lose his balance on the bump. He fell easily into the old routine, from the frat house to the fashion design lab, and let his mind wander._

I need to finish getting my tattoo filled in, _he thought, fingers absently tracing his abdomen._ Now that I’ve got time, I should be able to do it soon. This weekend, maybe?

_He waved at a dog who strained at its leash, tail wagging as it barked at him. Its handler waved back._

Oh, I’ve also got to talk to Woolsey about all this big brother nonsense. _This thought made Magnus sigh._ I don’t want to do that.

_He looked behind him, gaze drawn to a vibrantly orange tree, then returned his focus to his front—only to realize he was going far too fast, and someone was in the direct line of his skateboard._

_“Hey!” he shouted, immediately letting off the throttle, but it was too late. The boy looked up just as they collided, heads knocking as they were both thrown into the dirt._

_Magnus landed on top, driving all the breath out of his body, but his significantly higher forward momentum launched him off like the other boy was a springboard, flipping in the air and landing on his shoulder before rolling to his chest._

_“Hell and damnation,” he gasped, pushing himself to his elbows. The other boy exclaimed, and his skateboard landed facedown on the grass beside him. Frustration built in Magnus’s chest—_ I just got that board repaired!— _and he snapped, “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”_

_“Me? You hit me!”_

_“Because you were walking in the middle of the sidewalk on your damn phone!” Magnus looked up, ready to rip into this kid—and froze._

_He was the spitting image of William, down to the sharp cheekbones and broken-glass-look in his cobalt blue eyes. He had a hand pressed to his forehead, wincing, and his pretty face was twisted in a scowl._

_“Will—iam?” he gasped, but the flash of confusion and not of recognition confirmed it—this wasn’t him. This realization only served to break his heart further._

_Magnus looked away and rose to his feet, façade back in a heartbeat, as he bowed to the crowd and tossed a flirtatious kiss at a girl. Inside, he was shaking and it was hard to breathe. He felt like he was on the verge of a breakdown._

_“Listen!” The dark-haired boy grabbed his arm, and it was like a match had been lit against his skin. Magnus jerked away, hard enough that the other kid stumbled, and he spun on him, resisting the urge to punch his pretty face._

How dare you, William. I was healing. I was _better!_

               _As he sped away, Magnus blinked against tears, ones that trailed down his temples and were snatched away by the wind to leave cold tracks on his face._ I can’t escape you. You still hurt me, even so far away, even after so long. Wouldn’t it be nice if I could hate you?

               _God,_ I want to hate you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this clears up some of the questions you all have about Magnus and his feelings for William, and how they parallel with Alec.
> 
> I'm not totally satisfied with this section, so I might come back as the story continues and edit parts to fit the continuity, but if that happens I'll be sure to let y'all know!


	6. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone prepares for the dinner party! Tensions have never been higher  
> (i mean they probably have but it's catchy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little shorter than the others, because the next section is going to be actually pretty long. So bear with me for a week or so? Please?

“How do I look?” Magnus asked, spinning in a circle. Woolsey raised his eyebrows, Ragnor put his face in his hands, and even Ralf looked confused.

               “This is just a dinner party,” he asked. “Why are you dressed like you’re going to an eighteenth-century ball?”

               Magnus frowned and drew to a halt, his tailcoat settling back into place. “What do you _mean?_ The Victorian era was the _nineteenth_ century.”

               “It’s still very out of date,” Woolsey said, waving a hand dismissively. “Plus, Ralf is correct—this is a casual dinner party, not a ball, Magnus.”

               “You all just don’t understand me,” Magnus sighed dramatically, throwing his hands into the air. “Oh, the grievance of being the only Fashion and Design major in a fraternity of STEM students.”

               “Hey, now,” Ragnor insisted, who was most definitely not a STEM student.

               “I take full offense to that,” Ralf added, who was also not a STEM student.

               “This is great and all,” Woolsey put in, the only STEM student in the room, “but you’ll also be sweating to death in that. We’re going to a hibachi grill. Open flames? You’ll cook.”

               “You just don’t appreciate my artistic genius.” He crossed his arms tightly. “I _made_ this, you know.”

               “No, you didn’t,” Ragnor sighed, grabbing at the hem. “All of this décor is done in a cross-stitch. All of _your_ designs use hemstitches, because cross-stitching is ‘Satan’s work’.” The last comment was embellished with air quotes. At stares from the Scott brothers, he shrugged. “I’ve picked up a few things living with him.”

               “Well, that’s irrelevant,” he retorted, but shucked off the coat. “Fine. I’ll go get my waistcoat—which I _did_ make!” he added, just to prove a point.

               There was a collective sigh as Magnus swept from the room.

 

“I like Japanese,” Alec offered, walking with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. He had already taken several shots of vodka and finished off the last of his pinot noir, so he was fully prepared to stomach this night. Jace was texting at his side, frowning at his phone.

               “Uh-huh,” he said absently. Alec sighed, tipping his head and cracking his neck.

               “Stop texting your girlfriend and talk to me.”

               “She isn’t my girlfriend yet,” Jace corrected, but stuck his phone in his pocket and put his hands behind his head. “She’s going to be, though.”

               “Don’t sound too distraught,” Alec replied, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure she’ll see your charm soon enough.”

               “Are you looking forward to this?” Jace asked.

               “Sure—why wouldn’t I be?”

               Jace glanced sideways at him. “You’ve been pretty on edge regarding DKK recently.”

               Alec shrugged. “I’m not looking forward to seeing Magnus Bane again”— _especially not after what happened at the party, which I still haven’t told Jace about_ —“but if I’m planning on being a part of this fraternity, I’ve got to get used to being around him, I guess.”

               “Why don’t you try to get to know him?” Jace offered. “Maybe you two will get along.”

               Alec frowned. “I doubt it.”

               “Why?”

               “He doesn’t like me.”

               “Well, you’re not an easy person to like,” Jace admitted, then danced away as Alec swung at him. “Kidding!” His smile fell as he continued. “Come on, maybe if you meet him, you’ll start to like him. He’ll be…” Jace cut himself off. “Just—”

               “He’ll be what?” Alec interrupted, suddenly frustrated. “Good for me? Good for my self-image? Sorry to burst your happy little bubble, Jace, but I think bringing home a man on my arm is the last thing that Dad wants.”

               “Alec, stop.” Jace stopped and Alec followed, a few steps ahead. “Listen, quit getting so defensive when I try to talk to you about this. I know you’re not happy. I haven’t lived with you for three years to not recognize when you’re upset. I don’t know what Robert said to you when you came out, and I don’t honestly think I _want_ to know. But I know it upset you and you haven’t been the same since.

               “I can see through your façade, moron. I can tell how much you’re hurting. You need someone to help you with that, and I can’t. As much as I want to, I can’t help you as much as you need. You deserve to be happy just like anyone else does, regardless of what Robert thinks of you. You’re not defined by your dad’s image of you.”

               “You don’t know anything about any of that, Jace. Just leave it.”

               “I don’t want to.” Jace shook his head. “Tell me how I can help you. Let someone help you. You don’t have to fight this fight alone, Alec.” 

               “Listen, you don’t know _anything_ about what’s going on in my head,” Alec said, taking an angry step forward. Jace held his ground, golden eyes frustrated.

               “Then tell me. Make me understand.”

               He was already shaking his head. “You don’t want any of this. I’m already struggling with this shitload of baggage, and I won’t unload it all on you too.”

               _I won’t burden you too._

               “Alec—”

               “Well! Two more rushees!”

               They both turned at the voice to find Woolsey, at the head of a group of brothers, coming toward them with arms spread.

               “Come now, we can’t all be late!” He threw an arm around Jace’s shoulders, making the blond tense. “You two _are_ on the way to the party, aren’t you?”

               “You told me it wasn’t a party,” an all-too familiar voice drawled, sending chills down Alec’s back and knotting his stomach. “That’s why I changed my clothes, Woolsey.”

               The dark-haired senior turned, laughing. “Well, a hibachi grill isn’t exactly Victorian cuisine, Magnus, my dear.”

               Alec looked down as the olive-skinned man stepped to the front of the group, both hands on his hips. He had a white button-up under a black and white waistcoat, neatly pressed slacks, and flashy platforms. His makeup was flawless and extravagant, compensating easily for the lack of glitter on his outfit.

               “We’re going to be late!” someone else shouted, standing in the back by Ragnor Fell.

               “You’re right, Ralf. Let’s go, boys!” Woolsey took to the front of the group, pulling Jace with him. The blond shot a look at Alec that clearly said ‘we’re not done’ but allowed himself to be tugged along.

               Alec scowled and hunched his shoulders, fully prepared to take up the back of the group.

               “Ah, Alexander.”

               _SWEET CHRIST, NO THANK YOU._

               “Hey,” he muttered, staring at his shoes. Magnus stood a respectful distance away, looking as awkward as Alec felt. The rest of the group moved on, with Ragnor pausing once to make sure they were following before catching up with Ralf.

               Magnus cleared his throat and gestured ahead. “After you?”

               Alec silently turned and followed the group. Magnus met him stride for stride.

               “How have you been?” he asked.

               “Why do you care?” Alec snapped. He didn’t notice how Magnus flinched slightly.

               “Well—if we’re to be brothers, I figured we should get to know each other,” he offered awkwardly. “And I would like to offer you a non-drunk apology, for the way I’ve been acting.”

               Alec made a non-committal noise.

               “I mean it. The way I treated you when we first met, and then at the party—was uncouth. And so—I’m sorry.” He did his best to sound genuine, fearing he would fall flat.

               “It’s whatever.”

               “It isn’t,” Magnus sighed. “I was rude to you for no reason at all—or maybe for some reason I made up. Either way, it wasn’t right, and I’d like to make it up to you.”

               “How chivalrous.” The words dripped sarcasm, as Alec kept his gaze fixed firmly on Ragnor’s back. Magnus swallowed against his irritation.

               “Tell me what I can do,” Magnus insisted.

               “There’s nothing to make up for,” Alec muttered. _Just leave me alone._ He looked ahead, trying to catch Jace’s eye, but he was firmly tucked under Woolsey’s arm, and the older boy was telling a story complete with intricate gestures, laughing the whole while.

               Magnus frowned but thankfully didn’t say anything else, although they kept pace with each other the rest of the walk. They stopped just behind the rest of the group as Woolsey drew to a halt, gesturing up at the glowing sign with Japanese characters on it.

               “It seems others are already here!” Woolsey called with a laugh. “Let’s head in, shall we?”

               As soon as he released Jace, Alec ducked past Ragnor and hurried to his roommate’s side. “Sorry about what I said, can I sit by you?” he asked hurriedly and under his breath. Jace looked at him, startled.

               “You good?”

               Alec stared firmly at his shoes. “Yeah.”

               “Yeah, uh—I was gonna sit with Woolsey, and you can sit with us.” Jace grabbed the door behind the oldest Scott brother and held it. “After you.”

               Muttering a thanks and silently glad that his voice wasn’t shaking as badly as his hands, Alec disappeared inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are love, reviews are life.


	7. Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers and prospective-brothers go to dinner. How will Magnus and Alec handle being in close quarters?

Magnus hit a fist to his forehead as Alec ducked past Ralf and Ragnor and glued himself to Jace’s side. Ragnor cast him a look and then dropped back to walk with Magnus as Ralf caught up to another freshman rushee standing just inside the door.

               “That could have gone better,” Ragnor admitted.

               “You heard it?” Magnus asked with a hefty sigh.

               “Every word, of which there were few.” Ragnor put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it’ll go smoother once you two get some food. Sit with him.”

               “Ragnor, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Magnus muttered, staring at the back of Alec’s head as he and Jace discussed the menu over the bar.

               “I don’t think I care.” Ragnor jabbed him sharply in the side, making him hiss, as they moved forward. “Go on, catch up to them. Woolsey is sitting with them; use that as an excuse.”

               Magnus sighed, frustrated. _I should have known Ragnor wasn’t going to take no for an answer._

               They were escorted into the back of the restaurant, where several rushees and brothers alike were already seated and discussing menus. Woolsey took a spot at the front of the room, his usual extroverted self, to say a few words. Magnus ignored him and instead turned his attention to Alexander and Jace.

               At a sharp look from Ragnor and a double thumbs-up from Ralf, Magnus cleared his throat, adjusted his waistcoat, and strode over. _I hope I don’t look as nervous as I feel._

               Both Jace and Alexander looked up as he approached, but only the latter dropped his gaze.

               “I heard Woolsey is sitting here?” he asked coolly, and sat down opposite Alexander without waiting for a response. Jace looked first at Magnus and then at Alec, and frowned slightly.

               “I don’t know if Woolsey is saving that seat,” Jace began, only to stop when said brother approached, dropping down beside Magnus.

               “Ah, I see you decided to join us!” Woolsey exclaimed, green eyes laughing as he clapped Magnus hard on the shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, but the way his fingers clenched on his collarbone was also a silent warning— _I’m watching you._

               “So, Jace, you were telling me that you’re skilled in martial arts?” he continued, resting his chin on his palm. Jace shot Magnus a look out of the corner of his eye, easily conveying the same message as Woolsey’s squeeze, but his attention quickly switched back to the fraternity head.

               Alec kept his gaze fixed firmly on the menu, but his cheeks were red and his fingers were tight on the edges of the paper. Magnus took the opportunity to examine him through his lashes.

               _The more I look, the less he looks like William,_ he thought. His hair was longer and lighter in the way it flowed. His eyelashes were longer, cheekbones sharper. He had some dark circles under his eyes and his lower lip was bitten red. His shoulders were bowed forward, like they were stuck there.

               _Get to know him a little. See if you guys have anything in common._

               Magnus looked down and cleared his throat. “So, Alexander. What’s your major?”

               He felt, more than saw, him look up. “Huh?”

               “Your major,” he repeated, eyes firmly fixed on the cartoon octopus on the menu.

               “P-Political science,” he finally stammered. Magnus hummed.

               _I knew the name Lightwood sounded familiar._ “Your father’s a senator, isn’t he?”

               Alec tensed. Magnus could feel it in the way his foot stopped bouncing against the table, in the way his hands froze on the menu. There was a long moment before he managed, “Congressman.” His voice had dropped to a murmur.

               _Okay, bad subject._ “I’m a fashion design major,”  he offered, turning the page. After a pause, Alexander’s leg resumed its absent movement. _That’s better._ “What year are you? You seem too old to be a freshman.”

               “How old do you think I am?”

               The question came very quickly, and drew Magnus’s attention. Alec met his eyes for a fleeting moment before looking back down.

               “Well,” he responded, drumming his fingers on the menu, “I’d say…twenty-one, and not as of recently, either.”

               He looked up, surprised. “How’d you guess?”

               He smiled very faintly. _He isn’t used to being the center of someone’s attention, is he?_ “At the party. I asked if you were twenty-one, as I never serve minors. You didn’t insist you were of age, as many minors do—you simply asked me if I was worried about serving a minor, and gave me an easy smile. People who just turned twenty-one like to drop that into every piece of conversation. You also didn’t immediately ask for a drink—minors will.”

               “You gathered all of that from one sentence?” he asked, eyebrows raising. The waiter came by, drawing their conversation to a halt, and asked for drinks. Magnus ordered a margarita, and Alec a Corona.

               “Am I right?” Magnus inquired.

               He nodded, his eyes going back to the table. “I turn twenty-two next month.”

               “Are you a senior as well?”

               “Junior,” he corrected. “I took a gap year after high school. So did my sister.”

               Magnus nodded, smiling at the waiter as he returned with their drinks.

               “Are we ready to order?” he asked in a heavily accented voice. The table glanced at each other, but no one spoke. Magnus took that as his cue to go first.

               He pointed at the menu and said, “Spicy tuna sushi and Korean short ribs”, at the same time someone else said the exact same thing. He and Alec met startled gazes over the table before the older snorted out a laugh and Alexander turned bright red.

               “Looks like we have more in common than we presumed,” Magnus chuckled as the waiter moved to Woolsey, who seemed to order one of everything. Alec offered a tender smile that melted Magnus’s heart.

               _That’s another way you’re unlike William_ , he thought, sipping at his drink. _He was always so confident and sure of himself. You’re so afraid to misstep, you oftentimes don’t take a step at all._

               “So, if we’re playing Twenty Questions,” he asked, taking a long drink of his beer, “I believe it’s my turn.” He held Magnus’s gaze for longer this time before looking away. “Where are you from?”

               He laughed. “Is it because of my skin?”

               He looked up hurriedly, confusion morphing into shock, then embarrassment. “N-No, that’s not what I—”

               “I know what you meant,” Magnus interrupted, waving a hand. “I was born in Jakarta, but I live in Brooklyn.”

               “I’m from Manhattan,” Alec offered, “so you don’t have to ask.”

               “I appreciate that,” Magnus replied with a smile.

               “Can I ask something—not as part of this game,” Alec continued, seeming more confident now that he had some alcohol in his system. His gaze trailed over Magnus’s face; he could feel it like a physical touch, raking over his skin. It sent shudders down his back.

               “Ask away,” Magnus replied, licking salt off the rim of his glass. Blue eyes followed the movement, and pale skin turned pink.

               “You have to answer,” he insisted, raising an eyebrow, “no matter how invasive or personal.”

               “If you’re asking about my sex life, I must insist we finish dinner first.”

               He rolled his eyes. “Like I care about that.”

               “You wound me,” he gasped, faking an injury. Alec laughed, startled, and quickly covered it with a hand. It hurt Magnus to see—how he felt that he even had to cover up his joy in mixed company. _Laugh,_ he wanted to shout. _Let me see it, let me see how it lights up your face and brings joy to those around you. Laugh like the whole world is a joke; laugh like you’re dying. It’s the one thing you shouldn’t have to hide._

               He cleared his throat into his fist. “I was wondering—why do you seem to host such an animosity toward me?” Before Magnus could say anything else, Alec looked directly at him. It was an intense look, much like a jaguar staring down a cornered rabbit. “Is it because of William Herondale?”

               Magnus inhaled sharply, much harder than he intended. Woolsey froze mid-sentence, and Jace shot his roommate a startled look. Alec’s blue eyes never left Magnus’s face, which had grown as hot as the rest of his body cold.

               “I—How did you—know William?” he finally managed. Under the table, Woolsey put a hand on his knee and squeezed. Magnus touched his forearm in return. _I’m okay._

               “Ragnor told me I looked like him, and it seems you two were close,” he replied.

               “He told you that?” His voice sharpened unintentionally. “I’ll castrate him—”

               “He told me no such thing,” Alec interrupted. “You did, when I mentioned him.” He took a long drink of his beer, effectively emptying the bottle. “You’re not the only one who’s good at reading people.”

               Magnus swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat. “I…suppose I do owe you an explanation for the way I’ve been treating you.”

               Woolsey stood suddenly. “I am going to step outside for—something. Jace? Shall you join me?”

               “I shall,” Jace said immediately, mimicking him. They fled the room like bats from Hell, leaving Magnus and Alec alone. The latter watched them go. Magnus sighed.

               “It doesn’t have a happy ending,” he warned.

               “I think I can take it,” he replied, interlocking his fingers on the table.

               Magnus rubbed his hands through his hair, locking his fingers behind his head. He sighed again.

               “It isn’t a tale I’m terribly proud of,” he finally began. “I first met William when I was a sophomore. We were in English together. He was always with his roommate at the time—James Carstairs. He went by Jem.” Magnus smiled faintly thinking on the two—confident William and sickly Jem, who constantly carried around an old-timey dog-headed cane.

               “We became fast friends, mainly because we were all brothers,” he continued. “They were in Alpha Beta Psi, though, and I was here. Didn’t matter much—brothers are brothers, after all. We would study together, party together, drink together—we were inseparable.”

               He paused here, thinking of the night Will went to party by himself, and showed up at Magnus’s dorm drunk as he could be, crying over something—he couldn’t remember what anymore. He thought about William falling onto him, his fingers wrapping in his hair, hot breath against his mouth and lips on each other, forceful and biting.

               He pursed his lips. _I’m not going to share that yet._ “We were close,” he offered vaguely. “I was closer with William than I was with Jem, but of course, Jem always took priority over me. Over just about anything, really,” he amended. “Jem was like his…better half.”

               “So when William came to me towards the end of the year to tell me he’s accepted a study-abroad opportunity in Jem’s hometown of London, I was thrilled for him. It was all he’d ever wanted—a chance to expand his horizons and learn more than NYU could ever teach him. William promised me when he came back, he’d have leagues of new information that he’d share with me.” He hesitated and looked down.

               “But he never came back,” Alec added softly. “He stayed there with Jem.”

               “And Tessa Gray,” Magnus replied with a sigh. “I got one text from him, explaining that he was staying and how he wished me the best. Then I never heard from him again.”

 

Alec felt sick. Magnus looked unusually subdued, and not at all like the animated, exuberant man he had always seen him to be. His gold eyes were downcast and a frown was tugging at the corners of his penciled lips, his brows drawing together.

               “I’m sorry I asked,” he managed. He offered the waiter a forced smile as he returned with their food, placing Jace and Woolsey’s at their respective seats.

               “You deserved an explanation,” Magnus replied. He pulled his chopsticks apart and poked at a piece of his sushi. “When I first saw you, I thought you were William. When I found out you weren’t, it upset me all over again, and I’ve been taking out all of my pent-up feelings on you.” He looked up, and his eyes were wet. “And I’m so very sorry.”

               “I haven’t been the nicest to you either,” Alec admitted, thinking of the way he had stormed out at the party and the hurtful things he’d thrown over his shoulder. “I’m not used to people taking an interest in me, so I guess I figured you were being nice as some sort of a sick joke. In my experience, it’s best to be defensive from the start. So I’m sorry, too.”

               Magnus smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Truce?”

               “Truce,” Alec affirmed, picking at his own sushi. _Maybe not friends, but truce._

               “Good.” Magnus finished his margarita, but Alec didn’t miss the way his fingers were shaking. “I think Woolsey would have killed me if we were brothers and still at each other’s throats.”

               Alec popped a piece of sushi into his mouth. “That’s if I get a bid,” he reminded the other. Magnus looked surprised.

               “Are you thinking you won’t?” he asked.

               Alec shrugged. “Goes back to my whole ‘people taking an interest in me’ comment,” he replied, dropping a nod to the waiter as another beer replaced his empty one.

               He smiled again, very lightly, and this time it was genuine. “I’m sure you will, Alexander.”

               “Don’t call me that,” Alec put in instantly, fighting back a wince. Magnus raised his eyebrows. “That’s what my parents call me. Please, just Alec is fine.”

               “I’ve always been under the impression that men shouldn’t be called by their boyhood nicknames forever,” he replied liltingly. “And Alexander is such a beautiful name.”

               This time Alec did wince, hard enough that one chopstick slid out of his fingers and clattered to his plate. He fumbled to pick it up.

                _You're_ _not beautiful._

“But if you insist,” Magnus continued, “just Alec it is.”

               He stared down at his sushi, appetite vanished. His beer was sitting heavily in his stomach, and his ribs felt like they were locked in a vice.  The way Magnus had said his name, so closely followed by the word ‘beautiful’, was echoing in his head.

               _You’re disgusting._

               “Alec?”

               He jumped, covering it up with a hasty laugh as Woolsey and Jace returned, laughing at some shared joke. “Sorry, just lost in thought.”

               Magnus looked dubious but let the matter drop. He turned his attention to Woolsey’s plate. “Trade you a sushi for a shrimp?” he asked.

               Jace’s hand found Alec’s leg under the table, and tapped four times. _Are-you-o-kay?_

               Alec responded on the back of the blond’s hand, one quick tap: _Yes._

               Jace leaned over to steal a piece of sushi, and whispered, “You say the word and he’s dead.”

               “I’m fine,” Alec insisted, feeling his heart rate slow as the seconds ticked by. “Just something he said caught me off-guard.”

               He couldn’t shake it, though; the way Magnus had looked at him when he’d said that word. It raised goosebumps on his arms and knotted his insides together. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to, but not one he necessarily hated.

               _Beautiful._


	8. Bid Day - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my unplanned hiatus last week; I was working really hard on this chapter. I have ZERO experience with Greek life and have been getting all of my information from my friends who are in Greek life, so it's been a lot of writing, having them read it, and rewriting to get everything perfect.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> EDIT - TUESDAY - There won't be a chapter this Saturday (June 1) because of real life issues. Sorry, y'all! DKK will be back June 8!

Alec was in his room this time when the envelopes were slid under the door. It took him a second to notice, since his headphones were in; when he did, he ventured into the hallway to see if he could find who dropped them off. The hallway was empty and quiet.

               He picked up the envelopes and, tossing the one with Jace’s name onto his bed, tore his open.

               _Alexander Lightwood;_

_Delta Kappa Kappa would like to invite you to our final rushing event—Bid Day! If you’re receiving this card, that means that you’re in the running to get a bid into DKK. The formal bids, written and finalized by our President Aldertree, president of this university, will be distributed that day to those of you who will be initiated into our brotherhood._

_Bid Day is this Saturday, beginning at 2 p.m., in Accords Hall on south campus, room 185. We hope to see you there!_

_Head Brother Woolsey Scott_

               Alec’s mouth fell open. _Me?_ The thought shocked him, and he checked the name on the envelope and at the head of the card. _Yeah, that’s my name._

               He sat down again, staring blankly at the card in front of him. _I really didn’t think I’d get a bid._

 _Well, you haven’t gotten a bid yet,_ he reminded himself sharply. _I’m just ‘in the running’. Whatever that means._

               Alec looked over at Jace’s bed. _Wonder if that’s what his envelope is too._

               He looked back down at the card in his hand. He ran his fingers over the raised lettering, where the pen was pressed a little too hard in places. _This is the last thing I expected._

               Alec sat there, biting on a thumbnail as he thought about the dinner, which had been four days before.

               _I’m sure you will, Alexander._

               Just thinking about the way Magnus said his full name was enough to send chills down his back all over again. Alec picked up his water and took a long drink past the lump that had risen in his throat. He found himself smiling despite it.

               Since they had made their peace, Alec had seen Magnus around campus twice. Each time had been a very brief interaction—the first time, Magnus had been shooting past on his board, and only turned and waved as an afterthought. The second, he had been with the blonde girl he had seen at the party—which felt like _years ago_ —and he had been snatching a coffee off of the counter while she held the door and shouted at him to hurry. They had nearly plowed into each other, and Magnus had beamed at him.

               “Hey, Alexander! Love to talk, gotta run!” This was shouted as he had danced away and taken off at a sprint down the sidewalk. _He always seems like he’s rushing places,_ Alec noted with a faint smile, trying to quell the way his insides churned at his smile.

               _Not friends, not yet._

               The more Alec thought about it, the more he thought he was willing to give the other man a chance to be more than acquaintances. He thought he might have been a little quick to judge, and based all of their interactions on when one of them was more than a little drunk, shaken, or otherwise flustered.

               He pursed his lips, tapping the cardstock against his mouth. _I wonder if he had a say in who got invited to Bid Day._

_Guess when I see him, I can ask him._

 

“You didn’t need to wear a full three-piece _suit_ , Magnus. It’s just _Bid Day._ ”

               “Ragnor, _darling,_ there is no such thing as _‘just Bid Day’._ Plus, you’re the one who bullied me into being a big brother. This is your fault.”

               Ragnor rolled his eyes, unfolding another chair with a little more force than it really required. “Raphael’s due back this weekend,” he commented after a moment.

               “Is he?” Woolsey asked, glancing up from where he stood at the podium. They were in the wide room often used by larger fraternities for parties, gatherings, and meetings. They had been lucky this year and managed to reserve it for Bid Day, meaning that every rushee and every current brother had not only their own chair, but the elbow room to go along with it.

               All of the brothers were now in the process of decorating and setting up for Bid Day, as they had been since the morning. Magnus glanced at his open-faced watch— _one o’clock—_ and huffed a sigh, backhanding sweat off of his head. “Can we crank the air up?” he called to no one in particular. Someone shouted an affirmative from a back room.

               “He said he’s flying back in on Sunday, I believe,” Ragnor offered.

               “Where was he studying abroad?” Magnus asked as the overhead fans clicked on.

               “Somewhere in Europe, not sure.” Ragnor straightened. “That’s all the chairs.”

               “I sent Malcom to go get the refreshments,” Woolsey said distantly, shuffling through envelopes and papers. “Chairs are set up, bids are organized by last name…”

               “Have you eaten?” Magnus asked, shucking off his suit jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair that was now his. Woolsey turned inquisitive green eyes on him. “You always forget to eat when you’re stressed.”

               “I haven’t,” Woolsey admitted. “I’ll go do that. See if there’s a vending machine on the ground floor.”

               “Let’s go get some real food,” Ragnor offered, rising to his feet from where he’d dropped into the chair by Magnus’s. “The café across the street is still open. We’ll go get a sandwich before all the rushees arrive.”

               “Can I trust you to hold down the fort?” he asked Magnus, who saluted cheekily.              

               “Sir, yes, sir!” he shouted.

               “That scares me,” Woolsey muttered, but allowed Ragnor to pull him out. “We won’t be long!”

               “Grab me a Cobb salad!” he responded, and waited until the door shut behind them before glancing around. He could hear faint talking from an adjoining room, but the main room was empty.

               Whistling nonchalantly, Magnus approached the podium and picked up the bid envelopes. _Woolsey told me not to look through these, but I can’t help myself. I want to know if he took our votes into consideration._

               Magnus glanced over one shoulder and began to leaf through them. Towards the bottom, back to back, were _Jace Herondale_ and _Alexander Lightwood._

               A rush of relief swamped him, and he set the envelopes back down easily. _I’m glad he’s making it._

Then he paused. _Why am I so happy?_

               Magnus had spent the past few days lecturing himself over and over— _Alexander is not William, he’s not William, he’s not wronged you, he’s not hurt you, give him a chance—_ and felt like he was prepared to move on finally.

               That wasn’t to say he didn’t still have nightmares, or cry into a glass of cabernet sauvignon every now and again, but he felt he was ready to forgive and forget.

               _I feel better._ Magnus straightened up, fixed his tie, and did a very Elvis-esque spin, running his hands through his hair. _Better than I have in a long time._

               “Oh man, y’all better be ready for this,” he crooned in his best King impression. _“Fuck_ , I’m the next Patrick Swayze.”

               “Then God help Ponyboy.”

               Magnus turned, unfazed. Malcom stood with several boxes stacked on top of each other, eyebrows raised.

               “I beg your pardon,” Magnus sighed, making a motion like flipping his hair, gelled into a quiff, out of his face. “Patrick Swayze _wishes_ he was me.”

               Malcom rolled his eyes and set the boxes on the long tables, beginning to unstack them. “Help me with this.”

               “Are you big brother-ing this year?” Magnus asked, picking the lid off a box and revealing silver trays piled high with chocolate eclairs. He began to peruse them, selecting one to sample.

               “Heavens, no,” Malcolm chuckled. “I had my fill of that last year. Don’t—eat the food.”

               Magnus managed to dodge his wrist-slap, popping the entire bite-size éclair into his mouth. “I must sample them. How else will we know if they’re good?”

               “We trust the caterer.”

               “Sounds risky.” Magnus reached for a tiny bite-sized cheesecake. “I must try them instead. It’s the only way.”

 

Alec shifted nervously in his chair, so much so that Jace punched him in the arm.

               “Hold still, or you’re going to bring the whole building down around us.”

               “Sorry,” he muttered, his bouncing legs not stilling. “I’m just nervous.”

               “You’re not the only one,” Jace responded, glancing around the room. There were a couple of freshmen at the refreshment bar who seemed to be stress-eating, a boy who kept taking swigs from a flask, and several others who were milling about anxiously. At the front of the room, the brothers were clustered, laughing and pushing each other around.

               “You shouldn’t worry so much,” Jace continued, more gently. “They wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t going to get a bid.”

               “You read the letter, though,” Alec sighed. “They said we’re _in the running_ for a bid, not that we’re going to _get a bid._ ”

               “Why would they invite us if we weren’t going to get a bid? That would just humiliate us in front of everybody.” Jace crossed his arms. “They’re eccentric and erratic, but they’re not cruel.”

               “Hope you’re right,” Alec exhaled, glancing up as the rushees were herded to their seats. He met eyes with Magnus, and the older brother smiled brightly at him. Alec turned red and hurriedly looked away.

               “I’d like to welcome you all to Bid Day,” Woolsey began, beaming at the assembled. “If you received a letter and are here today, I’d like to congratulate you on making it in one piece through the hell that is rushing!”

               A faint ripple of laughter passed through the crowd, met by jeers at his bad joke from the brothers. Woolsey shot them a look that was playful at worst.

               “When I call your name, I’d like you to come up and get your envelope.” Woolsey held up a thick stack of lavender envelopes. Many rushees leaned forward in their chairs. “In it, you’ll find two pieces of paper. The first will be your formal acceptance letter from President Aldertree. The second will be a notice of when formal induction is, as well as who your big brother will be.”

               ” _What?”_ The shout came from the brothers, although it was uncertain who said it. They all stared at each other, appalled and some frustrated.

               “Woolsey, you usually let us pick our littles!” Ragnor said, crossing his arms firmly. A ripple of agreement spread through them.

               “Oh, you did.” Woolsey gave them an easy smile. “When we took votes on your suggestions for inductees.”

               They all froze. Alec and Jace shared perplexed looks.

               “I figured I would do it differently this year.” Woolsey tapped the envelopes on the podium. “Now, without further ado. Once you get your letter and meet with your big brother, we will give you all a chance to go back to your dorms and change before we go on to our Bid Day event.” He held up the first envelope. “Ralf Scott.”

               After every name was called, polite applause was given. The longer it was drawn out, the more and more nauseated Alec became.

               Woolsey finally held up the last two envelopes. “Jace Herondale, and Alexander Lightwood.”

               “Told you!” Jace shouted, punching Alec’s arm again, hard this time. Alec winced as they stood to more applause. He felt the eyes of everyone in the room boring into him, and looked up to meet Magnus’s intense gold gaze. He held it for a minute, trying to read the other man’s expression.

               _Wonder what he’s thinking._

               He took the envelope from Woolsey and immediately tore into it. He bypassed the letter as he followed Jace back to their seats and pulled out the creamy, hand-scrawled cardstock.

               _Alexander Lightwood (little) – your big brother is Magnus Bane._

               His stomach dropped to his toes and he froze in his walk. Alec looked up, his hands shaking. Magnus was still staring at him, and this time, his expression shifted from carefully neutral to faintly red and nervous. It seemed like the room fell away, and it was just the two of them, eyes locked on each other.


	9. Bid Day - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst and lots of swearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey we're back! Sorry for the hiatus - shouldn't happen again, at least for a little while. I just moved back to University and I've got time and the desire to write now, so we should be good to roll!

_Magnus sighed, staring up at his ceiling as his fingers traced the tattoo on his abdomen. “I know who I want to vote for, but I don’t know if I should.”_

_Ragnor gave an absent hum from where he was sitting at Magnus’s desk. He was alternating between typing and writing in a notebook. “If you think it’s right, just do it.”_

_“He’s only rushing because I goaded him into it,” Magnus groaned, pressing a throw pillow over his face. “What if he doesn’t even want to be in the fraternity? What if I vote for him and Woolsey bids him in on my dime?”_

_“It’s whatever you think.”_

_Magnus sat up forcefully, staring at Ragnor. “Once upon a time, a very long time ago, in a cottage in the woods, there lived a very old man and an even older woman.”_

_“Mm-hm.” Ragnor tapped his pen against his lips, but yelped as Magnus flung his pillow at him, striking him in the head. “What the hell!”_

_“You haven’t been listening to me at all!” Magnus accused._

_“I have!” Ragnor retorted, picking up the pillow and setting it on the desk, out of Magnus’s reach._

_“Then what have I been talking about?”_

_“The vote.”_

_Magnus crossed his arms. “Lucky guess.”_

_Ragnor sighed, spinning in the chair to face Magnus fully. “Listen, if you want to vote for Alec, then for God’s sake,_ vote for him. _I’ll vote for Jace if it’ll make you feel better.”_

 _Surprisingly, it did. Magnus took the small index card he had picked up from the island in the kitchen earlier that morning and turned it over and over in his fingers._ I’d like to see him make it. I’d like to see him again. I like him.

 _The last thought surfaced without Magnus wanting it to, and his body flushed with an unfamiliar heat._ Stop it. You don’t like him.

_“Okay,” Magnus said aloud. “If you’ll vote for Jace, then my mind is made up.” He quickly scrawled ‘Alexander Lightwood’ on the back of the index card under his own name, folded it in half, and stood. “I’m going to go drop this in the box.”_

_“Here.” Ragnor wrote on his own and handed it over. “Take mine too.”_

_Magnus meandered down the stairs, fingers trailing across the banister. Bid Day was less than a week away. Woolsey was keen on keeping their event for the day a secret, but Ragnor had dropped a hint that it may or may not involve going to an entertainment farm, as they were all open now—it was nearly the middle of September, after all._

_Malcolm was laying on the couch in the living room; his eyes flickered up as Magnus passed. His gaze trailed to the index cards._

_“You already made your decision?” he asked._

_“After much debate,” Magnus responded._

_“We got the cards this morning,” Malcolm replied, rolling his eyes, but he turned his attention back to his book. “Whatever, man.”_

_As Magnus dropped them into the lockbox, he felt a momentary flash of panic as he watched them disappear. Then he made his heart settle._

It’s done now. You voted for Alexander. _He turned away._ It’s fine. It’s not like anyone but Woolsey and Ragnor are going to know how I voted.

 

Isabelle screamed, so loudly that Jace’s eyebrows went up and Alec jerked the phone away from his ear.

               “Alec, that’s _great!_ You _both_ made it!” she exclaimed. Clary, distantly, gave an excited whoop, and a male’s voice responded. Alec guessed it was Simon. “What’s your Bid Day event?”

               “I don’t know,” Alec responded, still looking down at the envelope in his hand. “They told us to go put on comfortable clothes and meet back at Accords Hall in an hour.” His fingers played with the envelope flap. “Listen, we’re back at the dorm.”

               Jace looked up in confusion, and then frowned at his roommate.

               “I’ve gotta go, Iz,” he continued, staring at his feet. “I’ll call you back tonight, and tell you how it goes, okay?”

               “Alright. Have fun, big brother!” She made a kissing sound into the phone before hanging up. Alec sighed and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

               “Why’d you lie to her?” Jace asked.

               “I wanted to talk.” Alec pulled out the cardstock and examined the words on it.

               _Your big brother is Magnus Bane._

               “Oh, I didn’t even look who I got.” Jace pulled his out. “Oh, sick, I got Ragnor. He seems pretty chill. I like him.”

               _When we took votes on your suggestions for inductees._

 _Magnus voted for me._ The thought made Alec’s stomach knot in a way that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. It even made him smile a little. _Magnus voted for me._

               _Of course he did,_ he thought sharply. _He’s the one who goaded you into rushing anyway—of course he voted for you._

 _But if he thought that I wasn’t a frat type…he wouldn’t have voted for me, would he have?_ Alec scratched the back of his head. _Magnus Bane. Does he…actually want me there?_

               “What did you want to talk about?” Jace asked, drawing him from his thoughts. Alec sighed.

               “I don’t know,” he finally said. “Jace, if I tell you something, will you keep it confidential?”

               “Unless it’s funny.” At Alec’s venomous look, Jace chuckled. “Of course it will, Alec.”

               Alec looked down at the sidewalk while he walked. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and sighed again. “Okay. I…might…think Magnus Bane…could be perceived as…uh, decently attractive.”

               “Oh, that’s all?” Jace sighed, crossing his arms. “I thought it was going to be something juicy.”

               “What do you _mean_ , that’s all?” Alec snapped, the heat in his body vanishing to be replaced by a swiftly cold feeling. _Is he making fun of me?_ “Jace, this is—”

               “I get that it’s a big deal for you.” Jace put a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “And I appreciate you telling me. I really do.” He smiled. “Do you plan on doing anything about it?”

               “No.” The response was immediate, and the one thing Alec was very certain about. Jace made a curious noise, and Alec nodded. “I’m happy where I’m at right now. I don’t need something else to worry about.”

               “Is pursuing a possible romantic interest something to _worry_ about?” Jace inquired, eyebrows quirking.

               “Of course it is,” Alec snorted, waiting outside the door while Jace scanned his ID. The door buzzed and allowed them to swing it inward. “Flirting, dating, worrying about someone else’s emotional stability and placing your own emotional well-being in their hands while trusting that they won’t take it and run it over with an eighteen-wheeler—I don’t need that getting in the way of my degree.”

               Jace, who had been ahead of him on the stairs, stopped and waited, brows furrowed. “That is possibly the _most_ pessimistic thing that’s ever come out of your mouth.”

               “Have to keep impressing, don’t I? Keep you on your toes.” Alec took the lead. “Whatever, man. Moral of the story, I’m single and I like it that way.”

 

“I thought the votes were supposed to remain confidential!” Malcolm shouted as soon as the door to the DKK house shut behind him. A round of agreeing grumbles echoed his statement.

               “Listen, that’s your fault,” Woolsey sighed, tossing his wool coat over his arm. “I was planning on keeping it confidential, but then you made the comment about choosing your littles and you backed me into a corner.”

               “How the hell is that backing you into a corner?” Ragnor demanded. “I asked a fucking _question!_ Sorry that it looked like we were being glossed over!”

               “You _could_ have filled us in,” Mori retorted, crossing his arms.

               “You can’t blame us for being shocked if you weren’t going to tell us anything,” Alexei agreed, frustration tightening his thick accent.

               “Okay, hold on,” Magnus cut in, still faintly reeling from the whole ordeal. The look on Alec’s face and the embarrassment in his stomach were still fresh and prevalent—he vaguely felt like he needed to puke. “Woolsey didn’t tell us—okay, whatever. We still got to pick our littles, just not in as direct of a way. If the end result is the same, why should how we got there matter so much?”

               Mori, Malcolm, Alexei, and the others all looked away. Ragnor was the only one to keep his gaze. They stared at each other for a long moment before he exhaled sharply. Ragnor ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up.

               “I guess,” he finally relented, not looking at all satisfied with that answer.

               “Let’s all get changed,” Magnus continued, “and just head back to Accords. We don’t have time to debate this right now; we’ve got littles waiting on us for Bid Day.”

               As they began to disperse, most with a look of extreme relief, Magnus felt a touch on his back.

               “A word?” Woolsey requested, heading for the kitchen.

               _Why do all of my dramatic interactions happen in this damn kitchen?_ Magnus thought frustratedly, though he followed without complaint. Woolsey leaned against the edge of the bar and began to undo the buttons on his dress shirt.

               “Are you planning to seduce me?” Magnus drawled dryly. “Sorry, you’re _not_ my type.”

               “I must admit,” Woolsey finally said, pushing the flaps of his shirt back to reveal a black tank underneath, “I was surprised when I pulled your vote from the box and found Alexander’s name. I seem to recall a point when you specifically told me not to let him run, and seemed to hate the idea of him being a Kappa.”

               “Maybe I changed my mind,” Magnus snapped.

               “Magnus Bane doesn’t _change his mind_ ,” Woolsey shot back, then took a deep breath. “Your reasoning just happened to escape me.”

               “Well, that’s my reasoning.” Magnus crossed his arms, more out of a nervous desire for some sort of shield than any other purpose. “I changed my mind.”

               Woolsey stared at him for a long time. The silence dragged out between them, heavier with every tick of the wall clock.

               “If that’s all,” Magnus finally said, “I need to go change.” He turned his back and started to walk out.

               “I don’t want you to project onto him.”

               Magnus stopped.

               “I know you’re still hurt over William—”

               Suddenly furious, Magnus spun back around. “I’m an adult, Woolsey Scott,” he growled. “I know enough to not project my feelings over William onto Alexander’s back. They look alike, and that’s _all_ they have in common. Now, if you want to take him and give me another little, be my guest, but that will be my official withdraw from Delta Kappa Kappa.”

               Woolsey looked shocked. “Magnus—”

               “I’m sick of being treated like a child over the fact that I was upset that my best friend ran off halfway across the world without so much as a goodbye. Sorry that I was _sad,_ but I’ve learned to let go and move on.” _Mostly._ He barreled on, “Alexander is Alexander, and William is William—I seem to be the only person who can _make_ that differentiation! So you will either respect my decision and trust that I know what I’m doing, or you’ll lose me as a brother, and that’s my fucking stand on it. Now what’s your choice?”

               They stared at each other for a long time, Magnus breathing hard, before Woolsey looked away. “Okay. I trust you,” he murmured.

               Magnus stormed out, and the door did not slam behind him on accident.

               He caught Ragnor at the top of the stairs, and before his friend could say anything, Magnus jabbed a finger at him

               “I don’t want to hear shit from you,” he demanded. Ragnor’s eyes widened but he didn’t speak. “You’re probably the fucking _reason_ Woolsey thinks I picked Alexander because of William.”

               The silence dragged out until it infuriated Magnus more than if Ragnor had jumped to his own defense, and he stormed into his room and slammed the door.

               Magnus dropped onto his bed and put his face in his hands.

               _I picked him because he’s hurt. I want to heal him. I picked him because he’s sad. I want to make him happy. I picked him because he makes my heart jump in a way no one else ever has. I picked him because I like him._

_But now if I even begin to try to court him, everyone—including Alexander—is going to think it’s because of William. No one would ever believe I like him for him._

_Goddammit, I fucked it up again._


	10. Bid Day - Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let's say, since college is my #1 priority right now (sorry), if I don't update every week, I WILL update every other week at the latest. That way you guys don't have to wait like this again. Putting so much stress on myself to do all my schoolwork and still write big chapters every week was making me not want to write at all. This way, you guys will still get content and I'll not pull my hair out.
> 
> TL:DR; if I don't update one week, I WILL update the next.
> 
> Enjoy! This chapter's a lot more light-hearted and fun :3

Alec and Jace were draped over a bench outside of Accords Hall when the rest of Delta Kappa Kappa returned. They almost immediately split up into bigs and littles, which was noted when Ragnor and Magnus both approached them. Magnus looked nervous and Ragnor slightly put-out, but like putting on a mask, both immediately grinned upon seeing their respective littles.

               “Welcome to DKK,” Ragnor greeted Jace, holding out a hand. Jace shook it with a grin.

               “Welcome,” Magnus echoed, holding out a hand to Alec. He hesitated for half a second before taking it. Magnus’s hand was warm and calloused in his—it suddenly struck Alec that this was the first time they had had real contact. The thought made his body flush.

               “So what are we doing, then?” Jace asked as they both broke apart, blushing.

               “We’re off to an entertainment farm,” Ragnor responded.

               “Called it,” Magnus sighed, rolling his eyes. “I knew I shouldn’t have worn my nice boots.”

               Alec, in a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, felt weirdly underdressed next to Magnus’s Doc Martens, shredded skinny jeans, and white crop top. He crossed his arms self-consciously.

               “How are we getting there?” Alec asked, glancing at Magnus only to look away when their eyes met. His earlier confession weighed heavily on his conscious. _Maybe more than decently attractive._

               “Most of the brothers have their own cars, so you’ll be riding with your big,” Ragnor responded. “We all moved our vehicles to the parking garage; we’ll drive separately and we’re going to meet at the farm.”

               “Shall we, then?” Jace offered, and he and Ragnor took the lead, leaving Magnus and Alec to walk shoulder to shoulder with no excuse to get away.

               “Have you ever been to an entertainment farm?” Alec finally asked.

               “Yeah, it was last year’s Bid Day event too,” Magnus responded, absently rubbing at a small eyebrow piercing, one Alec hadn’t noticed before. “Not really my element, but most people seem to have a good time.”

               “I’ve never been,” Alec admitted, putting his thumbs through his belt loops.

               “They’ve usually got a ton of animals, stuff for sale, apple and pumpkin picking—if it’s vaguely fall-related, it’s there.” Magnus shrugged. “Not my favorite season, honestly.”

               “I love fall and winter,” Alec replied. “Spring messes with my allergies, and summer’s too hot for me.”

               “It probably wouldn’t be too hot if you didn’t wear exclusively black,” Magnus commented. Alec threw him a look, but saw the faint beginnings of a smile curling his mouth, and realized he was teasing.

               “Sorry I’m not into dressing like a Pride Parade,” Alec ventured, and felt vindicated by the grin Magnus gave in return.

               “We’ll fix that,” he responded, pulling his sunglasses down to peek at Alec over them. “Maybe a nice blue tank top for you—show off those shoulders.”

               Alec flushed again and looked away quickly. They had reached the parking garage, and pairs were breaking off to go in various directions. Ragnor looked back.

               “Where’d you park?” he asked Magnus.

               “Just up there—you?”

               “I’ll walk with you.”

               Magnus’s car turned out to be a green Mustang, complete with double racing stripes in matte black. Jace whistled when he saw it, and Alec’s eyebrows raised.

               “Just put new hubcaps on him and everything,” Magnus responded, patting the spoiler on the back. “After you?”

               Alec went for the passenger’s door while Ragnor pointed out his car to Jace behind them. As he popped the door open, he heard Magnus say, very softly, “Listen, about earlier—”

               “I’m not mad,” Ragnor interrupted, just as quietly, “but we’ll talk later. This is neither the time nor the place.” When Alec looked back, he had already walked off with Jace at his tail. Alec waved at them, and then settled himself into the seat. It sat back much further than he was used to, and his stomach flipped as it felt like he momentarily lost his balance.

               Magnus dropped down beside him, pulling the parking pass off of his rearview and dropping it in the cupholder. “Sorry for the mess.”

               Alec glanced down at the floor and noted a singular fast food bag and a reusable cup. The floormat was even vacuumed. “Uh—it’s fine,” he responded, thinking with a bit of disdain on his own dorm room and the state it would be in without Izzy.

               “You good to go?” Magnus asked. The car snarled to life under them. Before Alec could respond, they both nearly jumped from their skins as the radio immediately started blaring. Magnus swore and fumbled for the volume, managing to turn it nearly all the way down. After a few seconds of panicked silence, Alec coughed out a laugh.

               “Something funny?” Magnus asked, but he was smiling too, laughter weaved in his voice.

               “I just didn’t peg you as the—the death-metal type,” he snickered, covering his mouth with a hand.

               “It is _not_ death-metal,” Magnus snorted.

               “Slipknot is _absolutely_ a death-metal band!” Alec insisted. Magnus looked at him curiously.

               “The fact that you _know_ that after just two seconds of being deafened by it should speak more about _your_ music tastes than mine,” he countered. His gold-green eyes were glimmering with excitement in the half-light of the parking garage.

               “I had my phase,” Alec admitted grudgingly.

               “Your _phase?”_

               “Yeah, my shitty emo, death-metal, ‘it’s-not-a-phase-Mom’ phase.” He couldn’t keep from laughing by the end of the sentence, and Magnus laughed too. It was nice.

               At a beep from a blue SUV behind them, which Magnus identified as Ragnor, he maneuvered out of the parking garage and onto the street. Alec was surprised at how easily conversation flowed between them, without the pressures of outside eyes or anyone else’s expectations. It was weirdly relaxing, although some part of Alec’s subconscious still functioned entirely with the sole purpose to make him nervous.

               Magnus had been born in Jakarta, Indonesia, Alec learned. Not long after he was born, his mother left his stepfather and they both had moved to New York. Then, during Magnus’s freshman year of college, his mother had died in a car accident, leaving him orphaned. He’d moved permanently into the DKK frat house, and lived there with several other brothers even during the summers.

               He was a Fashion Design major, which Alec had already known, and was intending to either start his own clothing line or work with some big-name producers in the heart of New York City. He liked music, and could play the guitar, piano, and bass; and when he wasn’t working or in class, he enjoyed watching _Gilligan’s Island_ and _Project Runway_ , or playing video games.

               They were in the process of bonding over video games when they arrived at the farm, which was further up the mainland, just north of the Bronx. Alec watched out the window as they rolled up the long drive, sharing an uncomfortably long stare with a big red cow. As the Mustang rolled by, she put her head back down and tore up another mouthful of grass.

               “This isn’t really my element,” Alec said slowly as they pulled into the grass, rumbling to a halt beside Ragnor’s car.

               “Nor mine,” Magnus responded, popping open his door, “but they have good food.”

               _It might take a little more than good food to ease my nerves._ Alec tried to stop his hands from shaking as he grabbed his door handle. He _wanted_ to talk to Magnus, _wanted_ to get to know him, but the anxious part of his brain kept telling him that he was a pigeon with two broken wings, and Magnus was a half-starved alley cat. It made him miserably angry, but he was determined to overcome it.

               Jace came to his side as he exited the car. “How was your ride?” he asked Alec.

               “Not too bad. We talked about music and video games.”

               Jace nodded. “Ragnor and I bonded over the Beethoven CD he has in his car.”

               They followed Magnus and Ragnor as they migrated toward a group of brothers where they stood near the archway that read _WELCOME TO OUR FARM!_ Pumpkins, bales of hay, and cutouts painted with cartoonish farm animals stood nearby. As Alec watched, a small child poked his head through the hole in one of the cutouts over the body of a donkey, and stood laughing gleefully as his mother took a picture.

               “Do you want to get your picture taken in the cutout of the ass, Jace?” Alec joked, jabbing him with his elbow. “I don’t know how much different you’d look, though.”

               Jace swore at him, but he was grinning too.

               Woolsey spoke briefly, Ralf at his side, and gave a brief overview of their events. They had two hours to do what they would, and they would meet at the pumpkin patch to pick pumpkins to decorate the frat house with.

               “Guess we’ll see you in a bit,” Jace said. “I want to go get some food.”

               Alec was eyeing a pen with some goats in it. “I kind of want to go see the animals.”

               “The world is your oyster,” Magnus commented, startling him. “The goats are cute as hell. They have little things where you can put in a quarter and get some feed to give them.”

               “Sounds like highway robbery,” Alec replied.

               Magnus shrugged. “Yeah, but they’re fat and cute, so it’s kind of worth it.”

               They had hardly approached when most of the dozen or so goats poked their heads through the fence, stretching as far as their stubby necks would allow. As Alec bent to stick a quarter in the machine, the closest goats stretched to scrabble at his hand with their lips.

               “Stop it, now,” he scolded, rubbing one on the head. While allowing one to snuffle at the knee of his jeans, he managed to crank the dial and emerged with a handful of pellets.

               Magnus had to physically stop himself from throwing a hug around Alec, who always looked so stiff and uncomfortable around people, but was now kissing and talking in a baby-esque voice to one particularly rotund creature. Instead, he made himself turn away and passed a hand over his face. _God, he’s so damn precious._

               “Magnus?”

               He started at the sound and turned to find Alec brushing his hands off on his pants. His blue eyes were sparkling in a way Magnus hadn’t yet seen. He straightened up and smiled brightly. The other boy was a hair shorter than he—Magnus assumed, without his Doc Martens, they would be the same height.

               “Is there anything you want to do?” he asked.

               “Not particularly,” Magnus responded, stepping backwards as a shrieking child ran past, followed by an apologetic mother. “This is where we came last year, so I’ve done everything there is to do, I think.”

               “Well—uh, let’s get something to eat, then.” Alec headed for a stand that had a cluster of people around it. “I want whatever they have. It smells great.”

               ‘Whatever they have’ turned out to be barbeque rib tips, which made Magnus scowl inwardly. _Wrong day to wear white, I guess._ They managed to snag a seat at a picnic table, although they were forced to perch at one end while a man with two kids took up the other.

               “Maybe you should have worn something that wasn’t white,” Alec voiced, licking some sauce off of his thumb. Magnus scoffed, wielding his plastic fork like a weapon.

               “I cannot sacrifice fashion for what may or may not happen, Alexander Lightwood,” Magnus retorted, and then paused as Alec’s smile faltered. “A-Alec. I’m sorry. Freudian slip.”

               Alec shook his head, picking up another rib tip and popping it into his mouth. “No, it’s fine. I guess I should get used to it—you don’t seem like you’re going to stop any time soon.” The look he gave Magnus this time was slightly more teasing, and it made the older relax slightly. _As long as he isn’t mad._

               _That’s another way you and he are different,_ Magnus thought, gazing at Alec as he chewed slowly through a piece of meat. The dark-haired man was using his fork and fully-sauced fingers to tear apart a larger rib, mouthing curses the whole time. _William hated being called Will. God knows why—it was a nice name as well. Jem was the only one who could get away with it._

               They made vague small-talk between bites, but Magnus could still tell his slip-up had shaken Alec, even if he was trying hard not to show it. It took most of his rib basket before he was able to meet Magnus’s eyes again, which was heartbreaking. _Your full name is so pretty. Let me scream it from the top of Empire State—let me show you how gorgeous it sounds ringing around the city._

               “Are you done?” was what he said aloud, standing to throw his trash away. Alec, preoccupied by a small apple-shaped bottle full of cider (probably deigned for small children, Magnus guessed, but significantly cheaper than the full-size one), nodded and pushed his trash across the table. He made his way to the trash can with only one small detour to talk to a child who pointed at his tattoo.

               Alec’s attention was raptly caught when he returned. “What on Earth—is that?” he asked, nodding toward whatever it happened to be.

               Magnus followed suit. The entrance to the corn maze stood out like a sore thumb, the archway painted a vibrant orange and green, backed by the more muted browns and golds of tall, dry stalks. Magnus grinned slowly as he remembered the chaos that it had created the year before, and put a hand on Alec’s shoulder as he stood.

               “That’s a gift from God Himself,” Magnus promised.

               Alec didn’t look convinced. “What _is_ it?”

               Magnus pushed Alec into motion and steered him toward the entrance. “It’s called a corn maze. Quite literally, a maze carved out of a field of corn. Like the ones they have on the backs of menus at restaurants, but life-sized.”

               “Don’t only the kids’ menus have those?”

               Magnus snorted. “Details.”

               They approached the start of the maze, with a hesitant Alec being ushered along by an insistent Magnus. _Even if he doesn’t have fun, it’ll be a good chance for us to get to really know each other. I’m sure he’ll have fun! It’s fun!_

 

Jace checked his watch as Ragnor approached, shaking his head.

               “I made a loop around the whole place and I can’t find them,” the older brother sighed.

               “Where could they be?” Jace muttered, checking his phone. _Still no signal._ “They wouldn’t have left, would they have?”

               “The two-hour mark passed ten minutes ago,” another brother, one who introduced himself as Alexei, noted. “Magnus is rarely late to anything.”

               Woolsey rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Maybe we should send out a search party.”

               Malcolm came jogging back, vaguely out of breath. “His car’s still here. They haven’t left.”

               “Oh—there they are!” Ralf called, pointing. A dozen or so heads spun to follow his point, to see two dark-haired figures running toward the group. As they approached, Jace was stunned to see Alec grinning with abandon, his face alight with a glow he hadn’t seen in a long time.

               They both pulled up, Magnus significantly more out of breath than Alec. The stunned brothers stared at them—Magnus’s Doc Martens were spattered with mud, as were his jeans, and his shirt had a dusty handprint on his shoulder, streaking down his bare bicep. Alec hadn’t fared much better—the knees of his jeans were filthy and one of his shoes was almost completely covered in mud. He had dirt smeared across one cheek and through his hair.

               “What—happened?” Jace stammered.

               “Magnus, your _clothes,_ ” Ragnor exclaimed. The two looked up at their brothers, and then at each other. Alec burst out laughing, putting his hands on his knees as he bent double. Magnus cackled, an exact echo, and rubbed one hand against his eye.

               “It’s—such a long story,” Alec finally gasped out, looking up to meet Jace’s eye. Staring at the fathomless joy and euphoria making his blue eyes that much bluer, and his sharp features so much warmer, Jace was suddenly in the mood to let him keep his happy story to himself.

               _That’s his, not ours. And I'm willing to let him keep that._


	11. Bonus: Alec's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Alexander's birthday!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fits into the actual continuity of the story, but I'm putting it in as a bonus chapter just in case something get added/changed.
> 
> Sorry it's so late! Enjoy!

The front door slammed, and Magnus felt more than heard it. He looked up from where he sat on the carpet, chin resting on the coffee table, and pulled out an earbud. After a long moment of swearing and stomping, a dripping wet Alec appeared in the doorway holding a bicycle.

               “Is it raining?” Magnus inquired.

               “Eat shit,” Alec grunted, dropping the bike back to its wheels.

               “Woolsey’s going to throw a fit if that contraption tracks mud in here,” Magnus warned, sitting back on his hands. “There’s towels by the back door; you can use those.”

               As Alec disappeared down the hall, dropping his bag in the living room doorway as he went, Magnus called after him, “No shoes on the carpet!”

               “Oh?” Alec returned, a towel on his head and another in his arms. “On this carpet?” He held a booted foot menacingly over the shag rug that lined the living room. “Right here?”

               “Alexander Lightwood, so help me God.”

               Alec rolled his eyes and turned away. As he knelt to mop up his footprints, he asked, “Where’s everyone else? It’s so quiet.”

               Magnus coughed to cover up his smile. “Uh, I dunno about everyone else, but Ragnor and Jace are at the Union getting food. Ragnor asked if I wanted to meet him there a little while ago.”

               “For fuck’s—I just came from there,” Alec huffed, sitting back on his heels as he scrubbed at his hair.

               “Fret not, we can take my car,” Magnus soothed. “I’m parked just outside on the street.”

               “Yeah, I saw him.” Alec finally stood and pulled the front door open again. The tell-tale sound of rain thrumming on wood and grass drifted into the house, a stiff breeze accompanying. Magnus slapped a hand on his stack of papers to prevent them from scattering.

               The wheels of his bike clicked as he wheeled it out, and returned a moment later. “It’s starting to die down already,” Alec sighed. “Are you ready to go?”

               “Just need my shoes.” Magnus rose and stretched, glaring at the offending business statistics spread on the table. “I was just doing my homework.”

               Alec looked pointedly at his laptop screen, which was paused. “That really looks like stats.”

               “I was taking a break.” Magnus waved a hand dismissively and headed for the shoe closet.

               “What show even _is_ this?”

               “ _Gilligan’s Island,_ ” Magnus responded, pausing to glance back at his little. Alec’s blue eyes glanced up questioningly. “You’d hate it, darling; they have…” He shuddered. “A _sense of humor._ ”

               Alec told Magnus in explicit detail where he could go, which only made the senior’s grin bigger as he laced up his Doc Martens.

 

Alec ducked into the Mustang—the ‘Stang, Magnus never hesitated to correct him—and slammed the door behind him. “Hate this damn rain,” he muttered as Magnus joined him. With a snarl, the ‘Stang leapt to life.

               “It’s a pain,” Magnus responded. He was frowning at the porch. “I hate that our pumpkins are looking a little…squishy.”

               Alec leaned forward to look. Once they had gotten their pumpkins from the entertainment farm back home, Woolsey had tasked them all with carving. While Alec and Jace, neither of whom had ever participated in said activity, tried their damnedest, Ralf, Magnus, Ragnor, and Malcolm hid in the kitchen and emerged much later with fresh pumpkin pie and baked pumpkin seeds.

               The pumpkins they had carved were all displayed proudly along the porch, and in the week they’d had them, some of the more intricate ones were already starting to slump—namely, Magnus’s.

               “Well, you carved holes in almost the entire thing,” Alec reminded him, fiddling with the air vents. “It looks like a fishnet stocking.”

               “It’s _beautiful,_ ” Magnus snorted. “Better than yours.”

               Alec and Jace had gone with stereotypical pumpkin faces that Jace had found after a hasty internet search—complete with triangle eyes, noses, and teeth.

               “I’ve never carved pumpkins before,” he defended himself. He beckoned out the windshield. “Let’s just go.”

               He leaned his head back against the headrest and watched the houses speed by as Magnus, in real sports-car-driver fashion, immediately abused the throttle and took off at near Mach 5. It had been a week since Bid Day, and nearly every day had found Alec spending time at the DKK house. During his time there, he had started to get close with some of the other brothers.

               Alexei de Quincey was a senior, along with Woolsey, Magnus, Ragnor, and Mori Shu. Alec and Jace were juniors, as were Malcom Fade and Raphael Santiago—who, for spending two months in Europe, was still weirdly pale, and rarely left his room unless bullied into doing so by Magnus.

               The only sophomore was a boy named Alaric, who was nervous and jumpy like a puppy but was nice enough once Alec got to know him. Ralf and a group of his friends were all freshmen, and often stuck together in clusters—if they were even at the house, which they weren’t half the time.

               He sat up suddenly as Magnus turned on the main road. “Magnus, the Union’s the other way.”

               “So it is.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ve changed my mind. We aren’t going to the Union.”

               “Shouldn’t we text Jace and Ragnor, tell them we aren’t meeting them?”

               “I already have.”

               Alec, always the skeptic, pulled out his phone and opened their group chat.

               _BaneTheBeautiful: Screw you guys – we’re going downtown._

_RoyalFell: Fine, see if we care :P_

               “That’s rude,” Alec scolded.

               “He’s rude to me. It’s only fair I return the favor.”

               Alec rolled his eyes and pressed his pone between his thighs. “So where are you planning on going downtown?”

               “Wherever your heart desires,” Magnus responded.

               “You mean to tell me you decided we were going downtown and you didn’t even have a plan first?” Alec scoffed. _I hate how off-the-cuff you do things._

               “I did have a plan,” Magnus defended, frowning at him as they rolled up to a stoplight. “My plan was to let you pick.”

               Alec looked away as their eye contact made his heart race. “Do you have a preference? I can pick from a category you want—I don’t want to choose and it be something you hate.”

               “I’m very indifferent,” Magnus reassured him.

               “Well…” Alec sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I really like this Mexican place—Cazares’s.”

               Magnus had to cough again to mask his grin. _Textbook._ “Isn’t it down there by, uh—”

               “By The Rabid Porcupine,” Alec responded, referencing one of the biggest party bars off NYU’s south campus. “Like, right across the street.”

               “Gotcha.” Magnus changed lanes.

               “What are you smiling about?” Alec asked him, eyes narrowing.

               “I like Mexican,” Magnus replied smoothly, flashing him a look. His blue eyes shone in the mid-afternoon sun, innocent and trusting.

 

“There they are!” Ragnor called. Jace jerked his head up from where he was standing on a chair, fixating the last cluster of balloons to the ceiling. The ‘Stang pulled into a spot near the entrance and both doors popped open.

               “He’s so predictable,” Jace muttered, stepping down. “Told you he’d pick this place.”

               “Kudos to you,” Woolsey acknowledged. “Alright, everyone, get ready. I’ll go alert the hostess.”

 

“We have a seat back here,” the hostess said as Magnus spoke to her. Alec took a deep breath and stared longingly as a waiter walked by holding a sizzling plate of enchiladas.

               “I think I’m going to get those,” Alec said distractedly, hardly noticing as Magnus cupped a hand on his upper arm and urged him along. He looked up as they approached the closed doors of the back room, usually reserved for parties and meetings. “What are we—”

               “ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”_

               Alec couldn’t keep in a high-pitched yelp as he jerked in surprise at the onslaught of voices. It took him a few deer-in-the-headlights moments of him blinking rapidly to realize what was happening, but by that point Jace had dragged him into the room and thrown his arms around him in a hug.

               “Wh—at?” Alec stammered as people swarmed him on all sides.

               “Happy birthday!” Jace shouted, spreading his arms wide. Alec finally looked up at the meeting room walls to find them adorned with multi-colored balloons and streamers. His mouth fell open as he took in the room, the brothers that filled it, and then finally his sister, her roommate, Simon, and Jordan.

               “Did you help them with this?” Alec demanded as Izzy jumped up and hurried to throw her arms around him.

               “Of course I did,” she scoffed, grinning up at him with a level of abandon he had come to both expect and resent. “It’s my big brother’s birthday!”

               “Did— _Magnus!_ ” Alec spun, catching sight of the dark-haired man with gold eyes standing with both hands behind his head. He grinned as their eyes met “Did you know?”

               “Of course I knew,” Magnus chuckled, shaking his head. “Isabelle and Jace suggested this place, and it was my job to get you here.”

               “So the—text to Ragnor—"

               “Staged.” It was Jace who answered. “We weren’t at the Union, we were here—for like, the past three hours. We had to keep you believing that it was just you and Magnus.”

               “You wouldn’t have come if you’d have known,” Jordan continued.

               “What if I hadn’t picked this place?” Alec asked of Magnus, fighting with his feelings of frustration and flattery as his shock wore off.

               “I was to encourage you to come here,” Magnus replied with a shrug. “Quit sweating it and let’s have some food.”

               As Alec took a seat next to Jace, Magnus sat on his other side. Three waitresses came in and began to take orders. Magnus put a hand on Alec’s head, earning a startled look.

               “Happy birthday,” Magnus offered, voice soft.

               Alec smiled brightly. He felt warm from his head to his toes, and even the knotting in his stomach was easily ignored. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”


	12. Innuendos and Assumptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's late - it's a lot longer to make up for it!
> 
> PLUS I have P L A N S for the next chapter!~~~~ You'll enjoy it~~
> 
> All aboard the S.S. Malexander!
> 
> Oh, also, have some Sizzy :3

_“God_ , it’s so fucking _small._ ”

               “Oh my G—shut _up_. You say that every time.”

               “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

               “It isn’t like I can control it!”

               “It might be a deal-breaker.”

               “You’re so— _shallow._ ”

               “I’m not shallow; I just know what I like, and it’s not this.”

               Alec pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Then get out of my _bed._ ”

               Magnus huffed. “Where am I supposed to lay then?”

               Alec dropped his hands to his desk and stared at the senior who was currently coddling his pillow, sprawled out on his bed. “Nowhere! This isn’t even your _room!_ ”

               Magnus sighed, rolled over, and pulled Alec’s blankets with him. “You wound me.”

               “You don’t _have_ to be here,” Alec reminded him.

               “Well, you haven’t been to the house in, like, a week,” Magnus scolded, sitting up abruptly. His phone tumbled off the bed and hit the floor. His black hair was messy and his gold eyes sharp. “How else am I supposed to spend time with you if you won’t come to me? I have to come to you.”

               “You could always text me. Ask to get lunch, or something.” Alec picked up his pen and clicked it a few times. “You don’t have to come sit with me while I’m in my dorm.” _Especially after coming over unannounced._ “I’m just doing homework; I can’t be that good of company.”

               Magnus rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to entertain me. I’m not a toddler.”

               “Whatever.” Alec put his pen back to paper, writing quickly. When Magnus didn’t say anything, he glanced up to find the senior still looking at him. He blushed. “What?”

               Magnus smiled and shook his head. “Nothing.”

               Their eyes met for a long time before Alec finally looked away. The more time he spent with Magnus, the more he put his stomach in knots. There was hardly a moment when Alec could stop himself from examining Magnus’s jawline, the way his hair curled around his ears, and the color of his eyes.

               His proclamation to Jace still weighed on his back— _Moral of the story, I’m single and I like it that way_ —and he agreed with it with every fiber of his being. He knew he wasn’t going to go back on his sentiment. He wasn’t ready to be in a relationship.

               His infatuation with Jace when they first met was hardly what anyone would call a ‘relationship’, but it still hurt like a knife wound when he realized that Jace didn’t, couldn’t, and wouldn’t ever love him back. It took him a lot of alcohol to get over that.

               And then stupid _Simon_ at move-in had made that _stupid, brainless comment_ …

               “Did Izzy hear about Tau Epsilon Theta yet?” Magnus asked, glancing up from where he had disappeared back into his phone.

               “Oh, yeah,” Alec replied, grateful for the distraction. He leaned back in his wheeled chair, looking up at the ceiling. “It was yesterday. She got a bid. I don’t remember her big’s name, though.”

               “Well, good for her,” Magnus hummed distractedly. “Yes, I’m also supposed to tell you about the dinner party we’re having with TET.”

               Alec stared at the top of his head for a long time. “The— _what?_ ”

               “Dinner party.” Magnus looked up again, this time letting his eyes stay on Alec’s. “We do it every year—it’s not an uncommon thing for social frats and sorors to do together. We all get a ‘date’”—air quotes and all—“and go out for dinner, then usually come back to a party. Some of the guys use it to find hookups, some actually use it for dates, but it’s mostly a formality for the rest of us.”

               Alec frowned, then turned back to his homework. “I don’t want to go, but have fun.”

               “I don’t think you understand—it’s not _optional._ ” Magnus rustled about. “Woolsey just texted me and asked if I was going to take Camille again—”

               “Who is she?” Alec cut in, then realized just how sharp his voice sounded when Magnus stammered into silence. “You just—she was at the party—when we met,” he hurried to explain. “And I just—”

               “Best friend,” Magnus reassured him. “We had a…a ‘thing’ a couple years ago, but it never went anywhere, and we’re just friends. We’ve known each other a long time.”

               “Okay.” Alec was uncertain why his grip on his pen was white.

               Magnus looked at him strangely. “And I figured if you’re not into taking a girl, you could go with Isabelle. She’s got a boyfriend, I know, and I thought she might not want to go with a random guy.”

               “No, not anymore,” Alec sighed, flipping his pen back and forth between his fingers. “She broke up with Meliorn.” He paused. “Wait, what do you mean, I wouldn’t be into taking a girl?”

               “Why did she break up with Meliorn?” Magnus asked, surprised.

               Alec figured that was the only response he was going to get. _I’m sure he just meant not into finding a girlfriend. He has no idea that I like dudes—right?_

“She won’t tell me.” Truthfully, it worried Alec—there weren’t a lot of things the two of them didn’t tell each other. “I imagine it has something to do with Mom and Dad not liking him, and then after we fought—” He cut himself off. He had almost forgotten about their fight, the day he and Jace had gotten their rushing paraphernalia.

               “Whatever, it was only a matter of time,” Alec continued. “We—aw, hell—”

               His pen, spinning rapidly, flipped itself out of his hand, cleared the room, and struck Magnus directly in the forehead.

               “Ow!” the senior exclaimed, slapping a hand to his face. “What was that for?”

               Alec couldn’t keep in a laugh, and ducked as Magnus flung the pen back at him. “Don’t throw things!” Alec scolded, grabbing it off the floor and lobbing it back. Magnus caught it this time, grinning.

               “It’s mine now, then,” he shrugged, rolling it like a coin across his knuckles. Alec fished around in his desk drawer for another and came up empty.

               “Shit, that’s my only one.” Alec held his hand out. “Come on.”

               “Nope.” Magnus spun it against his palm and gripped it tightly, smirk widening.

               “Magnus, I have _homework_ to do,” Alec sighed. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”

               “Hurtful, and now you’re _really_ not getting it back.” Magnus stuck his tongue out. Alec noted yet another piercing.

               “Magnus,” he groaned.

               “Come and get it.” Magnus spun it teasingly. Alec stood and bent over the foot of his bed, snatching for it. Magnus pulled it back. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

               “Oh, for fuck’s—” Alec clambered over the foot of his bedframe and grabbed for Magnus’s wrist. The older man retreated further. “You’re in _my room_ —my room, my rules!”

               “Those rules are usurped if you can’t outwit me,” Magnus taunted.

               “Just give me the pen—!” Alec grabbed again, this time snatching the senior’s arm in his hand. Magnus jerked, trying to pull free, and yanked the already unsteady Alec, on his knees, off-balance. He fell forward and Magnus back, both going down with simultaneous yelps.

               Alec’s free hand landed on Magnus’s shoulder, slipped, and caught the blankets. His other hand, still wrapped around Magnus’s, slammed into the wall. With a gasp, Alec managed to catch himself, barely six inches away from the other’s face.

               Magnus’s lips were parted and his eyes were round, fixed owlishly on Alec’s. His face was red across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. His breaths came quick and shallow. Alec, with what little brain power remained, noticed that he had freckles.

               The two of them froze, Alec’s heart in his throat and no blood remaining in his brain to tell him to _move_ , and they sat there for what felt like years, staring at each other, until the door swung inward.

               “Man, this professor for my economics—”

               Jace paused, halfway through the motion of pulling his cross-body bag off, and stared at Magnus and Alec, who had both swung to gaze at him. He stood there before giving an amused snort.

               “If you two are going to get frisky, at _least_ lock the door,” he laughed.

               Alec, very hot and very embarrassed, stumbled to his feet, narrowly avoiding kneeing Magnus in all the sensitive areas as he did so. “We were _not_ getting _frisky,_ ” Alec scoffed, crossing his arms. “He took my _pen_.”

               “Believe me, blond-boy-wonder,” Magnus affirmed, “if we were _doing the dirty,_ Alexander would _not_ be on top.”

               Alec swung around, ready to hit him, but was greeted with his pen in his face. He stared for a moment before focusing on the man who was holding it out, cheeks still red and eyes still owled, propped on one elbow.

               “Your pen,” he offered softly.

               Nervous and hot, Alec snatched it back and sat down heavily at his desk. He tried to focus on Jace ranting about his economics professor, but his gaze kept drifting back to Magnus. One time, their eyes met, and Alec had to jerk his head away.

               _He smells like sandalwood._

 

After Magnus left (Alec had made it a rule that he wasn’t to stay after midnight—he did have 8 AMs, after all—much to the senior’s chagrin), Alec closed the door behind him and sighed, putting his head against the wood.

               “Why is he over all the time?” Jace asked from where he lay in bed.

               “Because I haven’t been to the frat house,” Alec echoed his earlier rationale. “And he wants to spend time with me, or something.”

               “I mean, I see where he’s coming from,” his roommate replied. “I’ve been over there quite a bit and every time I do, they all ask where you are. We’re in this now—we have to allot some time to go over there.”

               “I know, but I have an exam next week,” Alec sighed, sitting down heavily on his bed and falling back. “I’m more focused on that than this—dinner party.”

               Jace, who apparently already knew, nodded. “I understand. But this party is before your exam—it’s this weekend, and your exam is next week. After we work out tomorrow, let’s go over. Alright?”

               “Fine,” Alec resigned, rolling over. _My pillows smell like his hair gel._ “Fine, fine.” Where Jace couldn’t see, he pressed his face into the fabric and took a deep breath. It knotted his stomach. _God, he smells good._

 

Izzy spooned more ice cream into her mouth and glared at the door as the knock was repeated. Clary had left not long before to go on a lunch date with Jace, and Alec was in class, so Izzy was on her own. Thursday was her lightest day—just an 8 AM and then nothing until three—and instead of going to the kitchens or even the library, she had come back to sit in her dorm.

               She had broken up with Meliorn less than a week before, and still often found herself reaching to text him. She wasn’t quite sure herself what had spurred her to do it, but the fact that they had gone to two different colleges in two different parts of the country probably was a factor. Alec’s dislike of him was less than helpful, especially when her mom and dad already hated him too.

               _Knock, knock, knock._

               _Oh, for Pete’s sake._ “It’s open,” she finally called through a mouthful of Rocky Road.

               The door swung inward and Simon poked his head in. A quick sweep of the room made him frown. “Oh—is Clary not here?”

               “She’s on a _date_ ,” Izzy muttered. “I’m shocked she didn’t _tell you._ ”

               Simon looked down. “With Jace, I’m sure.” He sounded bitter.

               Izzy looked at him curiously, and then sat up. “Come in, Simon, and sit down.” At his incredulous look, she sighed. “You’re lingering in the doorway like a lost dog.”

               Simon hesitated for another moment, blinking rapidly, but finally entered and sat on Clary’s bed. “What’s up with you?” he asked.

               Izzy looked down at the ice cream in her hands. “I broke up with Meliorn.”

               “Oh—I’m so sorry, Izzy.” He sounded genuine, brown eyes wide behind his glasses, which sat most of the way down his nose. “Can I ask why?”

               She shrugged. “I dunno,” she sighed. “Long distance is hard, because he’s halfway across the country and I haven’t seen him since July—the first time he’s coming home is for Thanksgiving, so it’ll be like, another month and a half before I can even have the opportunity to see him. Mom and Dad dislike him, and so does Alec.”

               “Alec doesn’t like anyone,” Simon snorted, and then at Izzy’s sharp look, he hastened: “Well, I mean—he doesn’t _seem_ to, anyway.”

               “Alec’s…a lot to handle,” Izzy admitted, setting her ice cream aside and grabbing a pillow. “He’s got a lot of baggage, which he’s bad at handling on his own. He hates the fact that he’s gay because of what happened between him and Dad when he came out—that’s a whole _other_ thing—so he’s not happy there.” She paused. “What’s that look?”

               Simon’s face had lost a lot of color and he had adapted a thousand-yard stare. “I understand why he doesn’t like me now.”

               Izzy didn’t follow.

               He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “At move-in, Jordan and I were already moved in and Jordan decided we needed to go say hello to our neighbors. So once your parents left, we went over, and the door was kind of open so we just went in.”

               “First mistake,” Izzy chided.

               “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I guess Alec was upset about something, ‘cause Jace was hugging him when we walked in, and Jordan kind of froze, so I…” Simon cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “I kind of made the comment, said, like…’Wow, sorry, didn’t realize we were interrupting, we’ll leave the lovebirds to it’.”

               Izzy’s mouth fell open. “Oh, my _God._ ”

               “I know, I know,” Simon huffed, brows furrowing in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know that now. But I don’t think he’s forgiven me for it.”

               “I wouldn’t forgive you either,” Izzy stated. “That was douchey.”

               “I _know_.” Simon pushed both hands through his hair. “I didn’t know he was gay, and I didn’t know it was a point of issue for him, and I’m fully aware that I made a mistake in saying it. I even apologized.”

               “He’ll come around.” Izzy made a mental note to talk to Alec later. “He just takes longer than most sometimes.”

               Simon nodded, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Yeah.” He still looked vaguely put-out, but before she could focus on it, he glanced up at her and said, “Well, Meliorn didn’t deserve you anyway.”

               She blinked, then blinked again. “What?”

               Simon’s cheeks turned red. “I-I just think that…I don’t know, Isabelle, you deserve someone who’s willing to fight for you.”

               “And Meliorn—wasn’t?” Izzy ventured.

               “Well, for fear of going ankle-deep in my throat again, if your parents and brother not liking him was enough to drive him away, then he obviously didn’t love you as much as you deserve to be.”

               Izzy stared at him for a while. “I feel like this comes from somewhere.”

               Simon looked away. “I—really like Clary.”

               Something in Izzy’s chest wilted in a way that she didn’t expect. “I know you do. What are you going to do about it?”

               “Well—nothing, I guess.” Simon shrugged. “She isn’t into me like that. She and I had a make-out session at the beginning of the year and I thought—I really thought—this is it, man. She’s into me.” He was quiet for a long time. “I was wrong. She met Jace at a party, and they hit it off, and I hit a backburner again.”

               “Sounds like if she doesn’t appreciate your feelings, she doesn’t deserve you as a boyfriend,” Izzy offered. Simon gave a startled chuckle.

               “Yeah, I guess I should take my own advice, shouldn’t I?” he laughed. “Sorry to pour this out on you. I can’t talk to Jordan about this shit.”

               Izzy smiled. “It’s okay, it made me feel better too, honestly.” She rose from bed and stretched, her tank top riding up. She picked up her ice cream and went for the mini fridge, sticking it back in. “Thanks a lot, Simon.”

               He smiled very sweetly. It made Izzy’s chest warm. “Hey, no problem, Isabelle. It’s just really easy to talk to you.”

               Her heart stuttered. _Yeah, it is, isn’t it?_


	13. Prove Them Wrong

“No,” Alec restated, positively crimson as he glared at Magnus in the mirror, “I will _not_ wear the blue tie, nor the green one, and especially not the striped one!”

               “Al-ex-an-der,” Magnus scolded, popping each syllable through his teeth, “you are _going_ to wear a tie.”

               “It isn’t _going_ to be one of those, even if I do, which I _won’t,_ ” Alec snapped back. “My button-down and slacks are _fine,_ for fuck’s sake. It literally isn’t even a date for me. I’m accompanying my _sister._ ”

               “That’s all well and good,” Magnus mused, draping yet another Jerry Garcia tie around his neck and holding it lightly as he examined it, “but as your big brother it is my sworn _duty_ to prevent you from going out in public looking like a Plato’s Closet vomited on you.”

               “I feel like this is less of a ‘sworn duty’ and more of a passion project,” Alec grumbled.

               “The line is blurry at best.” Magnus sighed and cast that tie aside as well. “Stay here, I think Raphael has one that will match your complexion better. You’re far too pale for anything from my closet.”

               Alec sat down on the edge of Magnus’s desk. “I take full offense to that,” he informed his big as he swept out of the room in a flourish. Left alone, Alec took a second to thoroughly examine the room.

               His bedsheets were a vibrant canary yellow, encompassing everything from his pillowcases to his comforter, although the latter had some white accent stitching on it. A mannequin stood in the corner, draped in several pieces of fabric and wearing what appeared to be a kilt. His backpack and skateboard were tossed in the corner, next to a heavy leather jacket that he’d been wearing earlier that day and white high-tops. Above his bed were two posters—one of Prince, and one of Adam Lambert.

               A papasan chair was parked next to the wheeled one at his desk, which was cluttered and messy, every available inch covered with markers, sewing implements, thread, drawings, papers, and fabric scraps. His walk-in closet seemed as messy as the rest of his space, if the tiny glimpse Alec could catch between the mostly closed doors was any indication. He picked up a long strip of something silver from the desk, running it between his fingers.

               The fabric was soft and smooth, and Alec watched the light refract off of it. He let it spin and twist, and was in the process of knotting it around his fingers when Magnus returned.

               “A nice choice,” he hummed, drawing Alec’s attention. “Faux silk—I’ve been using it to line the inside of my suit jacket designs. Lightweight, breathable, and it won’t leave fuzz on your undershirt when you take it off.”

               “Why not just use real silk?” Alec asked.

               “Price, mostly.” Magnus approached, draping a gray tie with faint green accents around his neck. “This one looks so much better on you.”

               Alec glanced at himself in the mirror while Magnus expertly crafted a Windsor at the hollow of his throat. He had his singular pair of black slacks over a pair of shoes that he was proud of—the first pair of dress shoes he’d bought for himself with the paycheck from his part-time at the bookshop—and a black button-down with silver buttons.

               “I can tie my own tie,” Alec grumbled, looking at the long shadows Magnus’s mascaraed lashes cast on his cheekbones.

               “It’s quicker this way.” Magnus patted his breastbone, sending chills down his back, and stepped away. “There.”

               “You get dressed too.” Certain he was blushing, Alec turned away and loosened the knot. “You did this so tight.”

               Magnus’s shirt landed on the bed in front of Alec and he froze. “Are you—stripping right _now?_ ” he demanded.

               “Loosen up, darling,” Magnus sighed distractedly, sliding his closet door open. “We’ve got the same anatomy. It isn’t that big of a deal.”

               _It is to me._ Feeling very cold, Alec wrapped his arms around himself and stood staring fiercely at Prince in the rain, on the stage at Super Bowl XLI. He had a vague memory of watching the show, but a much more vivid memory of the first time he’d ever heard his father use the word “faggot”.

               _“Can I play this guitar?”_

               Alec’s gaze moved to Adam Lambert, at the way he held the chain of his long necklace between his teeth, leather-gloved-hand splayed over his face. His vibrant eyes peeked from between his fingers, makeup smeared across the sharp planes of his cheeks.

               He thought of his own Adam Lambert CD, tucked in the bottom drawer of his desk.

               “Magnus?” he asked, very slowly.

               “Yes?”

               “You’re so confident, and sure of yourself.” Alec wasn’t quite sure where he was going, but he felt like if he word-vomited to Magnus he might find an answer to a question he didn’t even know how to verbalize. “Why?”

               “What do I have to be ashamed of?” Magnus laughed, punctuated by the sound of a zipper. “I work out, I’ve worked _hard_ to perfect my fashion style and my makeup artistry, and I can rock a pair of heels better than most women I know.”

               Alec’s lips pursed. “Do you ever doubt yourself?”

               “Not anymore.”

               He turned quickly and stared at Magnus as he pulled on a baby blue vest over his bare torso, back to his little. “What changed?”

               “I decided who I was.” Magnus leaned into the mirror, wiping at a bit of stray eyeshadow. “I finally told myself that there was no point in worrying about what other people wanted me to be, if I wasn’t going to change into what they wanted. They weren’t going to be happy with me being happy, and I had to accept that.

               “There are two types of people in this world, Alexander—the people who say you need to be what they want, and the people who will understand who _you_ are and love you for it.” He shed the vest, and Alec got his first clear look at the tattoo that disappeared into his jeans. It curled up his abdomen to the middle of his ribcage, and almost around to his spine. It seemed to be some abstract thing, with splashes of color in the form of various flowers. “You’ve got to learn to live with some people, and search for those you can’t live without.”

               Alec looked down as Magnus disappeared into his closet, rifling. “What if—someone told you that you can’t do something? Something you’ve wanted to do for longer than you can even remember, do or say or—or be. And—they told you no. That that wasn’t—” Alec trailed away, unsure of how to finish. He felt vaguely nauseated.

               Magnus was quiet for a long time, and reemerged with a grunt, dragging a white button-down behind him. As he slung it on, his eyes were distant as he seemed to be lost in thought.

               After a long moment, Magnus looked up. His gaze was very intense.

               “I’d look at them,” he said, almost inaudibly, “and I’d say, ‘I’ll fucking do it, darling’. And I would prove them wrong.”

 

Izzy was almost regretting her choice in outfit. _Almost_. She would regret it more if she didn’t look _killer_ in the knee-high boots, fishnets, and tight red dress. Her leather jacket helped stave off some of the cold, but the nip in the October air was unmistakable, especially as it hissed down the street and stirred leaves. Her exposed skin had goosebumps and a shiver was building in her core.

               “You look _stunning,_ ” Camille, her big sister, had insisted as they stood in the sorority house. The walls vibrated from the music blaring two rooms down, and they had closed the door to keep it out. “Your man is going to _freak._ ”

               “My _man_ is my big brother,” Izzy had reminded her, raising both eyebrows in the mirror at the blonde girl behind her. “This isn’t a date for me, Cam.” She was still busy nursing the wounds that her relationship with Meliorn had left behind, and couldn’t yet bear to consider another.

               “Well, it isn’t a date for me, _either,_ ” she huffed, crossing her arms over her low white top. “But I’m still into making them drool.”

               Now, striding down the sidewalk just behind Camille in a group of other sisters, Isabelle was starting to feel the old rushes of confidence she had forgotten about for a while. It had been a while since she’d dressed up and gone out.

               _Maybe now that Alec’s in Delta Kap, I’ll be able to get to more frat parties, since you have to know the brothers to get into them. I love going to parties._

               They rounded the corner and as the DKK house came into sight, Izzy peeked around Camille’s tall shoulder to see a cluster of boys congregating in the front yard. Alec was easy to pick out, standing awkwardly to the side with Jace and Ragnor, hands in his pockets as he stared at a leaf bouncing across the ground toward him. As she watched, he reached out with a booted foot and pinned it expertly.

               “He’s like a cat,” Camille observed.

               “He does do that.” Izzy picked up the pace until she was near jogging, her hair bouncing behind her. “Alec!”

               His head jerked up and a smile spread across his face as he saw her. His gaze trailed her, and his smile immediately vanished into a pursed-lip frown. “Isabelle, it’s _freezing out here,_ ” he scolded as she ran into him, engulfing him in a hug. “What are you _wearing?_ ”

               “Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud, Alec,” Izzy pouted, stepping back and holding her arms out. “Do you like my new jacket?”

               “That’s the last thing I noticed,” he huffed, pushing a hand through his unruly hair. “But yes, it’s very nice.”

               “Where’s Maggie?” Camille drawled, pulling up behind Izzy.

               “Take a guess,” Ragnor grumbled, pushing his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

               “Still getting dressed?”

               “We have a winner.”

               “How long has he been getting dressed?” Izzy inquired.

               Alec glanced at his watch, though she felt it was more rhetorical than out of any real need. “Three hours.”

               As if their words summoned him, the front door to the DKK house banged open and drew all available attention. Magnus Bane strode out in a swirl of color and fabric, hair and face glittering in the half-light. With tight pants, Doc Martens, flashy vest over a button-down, and a lime-green ascot tucked into his collar, he stood out like a parade float, even with his heavy, knee-length wool coat.

               “I have arrived,” he announced, draping himself dramatically over the banister on the porch steps. The door slammed behind him. “The party can now begin.”

               “Oh, thank God,” Woolsey sighed. “We were all very worried that it would never be able to start.”

               “I do what I can, darling.”

               Izzy cast a look at her brother out of the corner of her eye. Alec’s face was bright red and his lips were parted as he stared unabashedly at Magnus. She nudged him in the ribs.

               “You’re drooling, big brother,” she teased, and laughed when he snapped his jaws shut and hurriedly pawed at his mouth. “Why don’t you go tell him that he looks nice?”

               Alec looked affronted. “Isabelle, I could _not ever do that_.”

               “Well, why not?”

               “Because—well, because—be—I—” His attention was drawn away from useless stammering as Magnus approached, tugging on a pair of sleek gray gloves. “You—took your time,” he managed instead.

               “Did I not _tell you_ , Alexander, that beauty cannot be rushed?” Magnus dismissed, holding out a hand for Camille’s. Alec glowered. “And you, my sweet—stunning as always.” He kissed the back of her bare hand.

               “You look amazing, Magnus,” Izzy piped up, nudging Alec’s ribs again. Magnus’s gold gaze swung to her and he beamed, taking both of her hands in his. Both were graced with a chaste kiss, making her giggle again.

               “Coming from someone as beautiful as yourself, Isabelle, that means the world.”

               Alec caught a meaningful look from Jace and swallowed awkwardly. “Um—well—you do look nice, Magnus. Green’s a good—color on you.”

               Their eyes met for a moment and the tension crackled like lightning. They both turned similar shades of red. Magnus smiled. It was very genuine.

               “I appreciate it, Alexander.”

               Alec looked away hurriedly. Jace patted his shoulder. Ragnor rolled his eyes. Camille made a gagging motion.

 

They returned to the DKK house after a wholly uninteresting dinner. Alec ate most of what he ordered while he and Isabelle shared a bottle of wine at her insistence—as much as he hated to allow it, he knew he couldn’t stop her.

               While Mori and Alexei fiddled with the speaker system, Magnus swirled into the kitchen with Camille to play another drinking game. Alec dropped onto the couch with Malcolm, Alaric, and Ralf. Raphael returned a moment later with a bottle of vodka and a plate of shot glasses.

               “I bought new,” he offered, setting them all on the table. Alaric distributed shot glasses while Raphael twisted the lid off of the vodka.

               “Please tell me it’s better than what you bought last time,” Malcolm sighed.

               “I learned from my mistakes,” Raphael snapped, pouring into each glass. “ _Estupidò._ ”

               Alec took his shot as soon as it was poured and motioned for another.

               “Ah, the newbie thinks he can outdrink us,” Malcolm jeered.

               “Is that a challenge?” the already slightly inebriated Alec demanded.

               “It might be,” Malcolm responded. “Are you willing to rise to it?”

 

Alec slammed his shot glass back down, coughing. Raphael emptied the vodka bottle into his glass and held it dramatically upside down.

               “That’s all, folks,” he sighed. “That’s the second bottle.”

               Ralf had vanished a few minutes before, leaving Alec alone with Raphael, Malcolm, and Alaric, the latter of whom seemed to be watching the whole game, though interestedly, absently. _I wonder how much he usually drinks,_ Alec pondered. _He’s had a lot for someone who doesn’t drink regularly._

               “We’ve got more in the kitchen,” Malcom growled, obviously irritated that Alec had matched him shot for shot. “Go get it, new meat.”

               “Call me by my name and I might,” Alec shot back.

               “Sure, _pussy._ ”

               Alec shot upright, knees slamming into the table as he did so. Alaric fumbled for his glass as it tried to roll away. Malcolm stood as well.

               “What’s that supposed to mean?” Alec demanded.

               “We’re not fucking _dumb and blind_ ,” Malcolm snorted. Raphael gave him a warning look that he ignored. “We know you’re into Magnus.”

               Alec got very hot. “I am _not!_ ” he shouted over the blaring music. “And even if I was, that wouldn’t be your business!”

               “You seem pretty into him, man,” Alaric laughed through a hiccup.

               “Shut _up,_ Alaric,” Raphael ordered. “Alec, sit down. Malcolm didn’t mean it.”

               “Yeah, I fucking did!” he responded. “If you want to prove that you’re not a _bitch,_ go tell him right now!”

               “No!”

               “Then you’re—” Malcolm leaned over the table and grabbed Alec’s tie in his hand, dragging their faces an inch apart. “A _pussy._ ”

               _“…and I’d say, ‘I’ll fucking do it, darling’. And I would prove them wrong.”_

               Smothering the urge to punch Malcolm as he so wanted to, Alec drunkenly shoved him away and stormed around the table. He tripped over the leg of Raphael’s chair and almost fell, but stumbled upright and continued. Raphael made a mad grab for his arm.

               “Alec! Malcolm, you _maldito imbècil_ —”

               “I’ll fucking do it, darling,” Alec muttered under his breath.

 

“I’ll return,” Camille laughed, swirling out of the room. “Join me in the bathroom, Isabelle?”

               “Oh, I do have to do that.” Isabelle flounced after her big as she held the door.

               “It’s a single person!” Magnus called, and sighed as the door slammed behind them anyway. “God, I hate drunk frat girls.”

               As soon as the north door closed, the east door swung inwards. “Magnus!” Alec shouted, voice ringing off the tile. Startled, Magnus choked on his drink. Alec’s blue eyes were unfocused and his face was red with intoxication. The front of his shirt was rumpled and the knot on his tie was loose.

               “Alexander, are you okay?” he asked as his little swung around the island, nearly slipped on a discarded ice cube, and caught himself. Magnus rushed to steady him, gripping his upper arms. “What’s gotten into you?”

               “I’m taking you—your advice.” Alec grabbed the knot of his ascot, effectively holding him in place. “I’m—fucking _doing it._ ”

               And before Magnus could move, Alec’s lips were on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a day late cos I just wanted to make sure it was where I wanted it!
> 
> I also really /really/ love building Magnus's various exuberant outfits. Probably one of my favorite parts of this fic.


	14. Jesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Magnus react to Alec's sudden show of affection? And tales of the morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty long, I gotta say. A lot of it feels like filler but I think it's enjoyable.

               And before Magnus could move, Alec’s lips were on his.

               Even without Alec choking him out with his own accessory, Magnus wasn’t sure he could have moved if he’d tried. Shock paralyzed all of his muscles, and his heart jumped like he’d been electrocuted. Alec’s lips were soft and plush, with just a hint of teeth behind them, lurking like a threat. He smelled sweet, like shampoo.

               He also reeked of alcohol.

               _Sweet Christ Almighty, I’m going to hell for wanting this as badly as I do._

               With a tremendous amount of willpower, Magnus shut his eyes and, digging his fingers in, pushed Alec firmly backwards. His body swung with the movement, his head rocking back. Blue eyes found his.

               “Alexander, _what are you doing?”_ Magnus asked, trying to keep his voice steady. His brows furrowed.

               “T-Taking your advice,” Alec stammered, face slowly turning red. “Malcolm said—”

               “This is neither the time nor the place to do anything that I suggest,” he interrupted. “How much have you had to drink?”

               “Alec!” The east door burst open and Raphael bolted in. Both Alec and Magnus turned to him. The expression on his face was somewhere between anger, shock, and something akin to terror. “ _Dios mio,_ Alexander, don’t do something sober you will regret.”

               “How much has he had to drink?” Magnus demanded as he pushed Alec down onto a barstool.

               “He’s right here!” Alec put in fiercely.

               “Shut up.” Raphael dropped a bottle of water in front of him with a command to drink it.

               “You’d better answer me,” Magnus threatened. “How much did he drink?”

               “A lot,” he admitted, going back to the door and looking out toward the party. After a long moment of staring, he closed it, suffocating the sound of the music. “He tried to out-drink Malcolm.”

               _“Malcolm said—”_

               _No one can out-drink Malcolm Fade._ “What happened?” Magnus asked, a new fury building deep in his guts. “And you’d better tell me everything before I go castrate Malcolm for whatever he incited, because believe me, I _won’t_ ask _him_.”

               “That’s mostly it,” Raphael sighed. “They started into a shots contest, and went through two bottles of vodka. He told Alec to go get some more, and when he said no, Malcolm called him—” He shifted uneasily. “He called him a pussy. Magnus— _wait!_ ”

               He grabbed Magnus’s shirt as he tried to stalk past, digging in his heels. “Wait, wait, wait, dammit, wait. I already chewed him out and he’s upstairs sulking. Do not confront him right now. You’ve had some to drink too and you will _not_ think through what you’re doing.”

               “Oh, I’m thinking it through,” Magnus reassured him. “I’m thinking about exactly how I’m going to rip off his—”

               “ _MAGNUS.”_ With a mighty effort, Raphael pulled him backwards and pushed him into the island, both hands on his pecs. His dark eyes were wide but unwaveringly firm. “I mean it. If you have any respect for me as your friend, you will _not do anything_ until you are _sober._ ”

               Magnus’s lips pursed and he was seized with an incredible urge to punch him. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _I see what you’re saying. I hate it, but I understand._ “Fine. You said you talked to him?”

               “You could put it that way, yes.” Satisfied that Magnus wasn’t going anywhere, Raphael stepped away and glanced at Alec. “Did he do or say anything rash?”

               Magnus didn’t hesitate before shaking his head. “No, he was trying to tell me some shit about Malcolm when you came in.” _No need in involving him._

               Raphael inclined his head. “Are you okay, _chico?_ You’ve gone green.”

               Alec made a faint noise. In a flash, Magnus was back around the island, perching on a barstool in front of Alec’s. He put his fingers under his chin and lifted his head. “Look at me, darling. Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?”

               Mutely, Alec shook his head. “I gotta take the bottle of vodka back out,” he said with a hiccup, casting around for it. “Malcolm wanted it.”

               _He’s drunk enough that he might not have realized what he did. God, I hope he doesn’t._ Magnus shook his head. “No, you’re done drinking tonight. Drink that water and we’re going upstairs.”

               Alec turned very red and his eyes met Magnus’s, wide and innocent. “Wait—I’m a virgin.”

               Magnus looked skyward and Raphael slapped a hand to his forehead. “ _Dios dame paciencia_ ,” he muttered.

 

Alec woke up slowly, not unusual after a night of drinking. He felt tired down to the insides of his bones, and with a meager stretch, he grabbed for fabric and pulled it closer to his face. Sunlight poked at his eyelids, weak but insistent.

               “What time is it?” he muttered aloud, reaching for the windowsill, where his phone usually sat. The sill itself was further away than he recalled, and it was bare. _God, did I forget to plug it in again?_

               Alec sucked in a deep breath through a mouth that tasted like piss and was confused by the smell that greeted him. _I haven’t done laundry—why do my sheets smell weird? And I don’t recall my bed being this soft…?_

               Body weeping in protest, Alec forced his eyes open, peeking into the sunlight. He was bundled in a bright yellow comforter and sheet, and felt like he was sunk fifteen feet deep in a mess of feathers. It was warm and comforting, and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep for another year.

               _Guess it won’t hurt if I go back to sleep for a bit._ Alec let his eyes close again and burrowed deeper into the blankets. _It’s the weekend, right? And it’s so comfortable here…_

 

He roused later to find the sun had shifted from his eyes, and he felt much less tired. Alec stretched, winced as he kicked the footboard of the bed, and blinked blearily up.

               Adam Lambert stared back down at him.

               Curious, Alec stared at the poster on the wall for a long time. _I don’t have anything like that._

               Another moment of bewildered casting about found the walk-in closet, mannequin, and Prince poster, and the realization hit Alec like a train— _Oh God, I’m in Magnus’s bed._

               He sat up hurriedly, the comforter falling away from his shoulders. Butterflies in his stomach, he did a quick scan of the room, and then a slower one. Magnus was, as he thought, in the room—he was sunk into his papasan chair, long legs propped on his desk. He was wrapped in a fluffy gray blanket pulled up to his nose, still sound asleep.

               Alec took a few deep breaths, then began to examine himself. _This isn’t my shirt._ At that realization, he took quick peek under the blankets. _These aren’t my sweatpants, either. …Okay, at least these underwear are mine._

               Thinking hard, he went over the events of the night before. Everything was vague and foggy after he’d started drinking with Malcolm. He recalled them fighting, and seeking Magnus out in the kitchen, falling into his arms— _maybe for respite? Yikes, I hope he’s not upset about that._

               Then Raphael had given him water, and he’d been escorted upstairs by both men. He remembered laughing at some fantastic joke Magnus told him—the memory made him smirk even though the details of the joke were gone. He _did_ remember pulling off his button-down, and then— _trying to undo the buttons on Magnus’s?_

               Hot with embarrassment, Alec pressed both hands to his cheeks and shook his head. _No way, I must be remembering that wrong._

               Moving as slowly as possible, Alec stretched out of bed and fumbled for his phone on the corner of Magnus’s desk. The senior made a low noise, making Alec freeze, but after a small shift in positions, his breathing evened out again.

               Alec popped out the charger and, after a half-hearted debate with himself, laid back down. _How the hell is his bed this soft?_

               He had two missed calls from Jace, and a text asking him where he was from the night before. Izzy had sent him several drunken selfies of herself in the mirror with Camille and a sister he didn’t recognize, and one of her blowing a kiss, probably meant for someone who wasn’t him— _Miss me yet?_ read the caption.

               A few emails, a news article, some group chat notifications from his Professional Politics group—after dismissing them all, Alec lay his phone on his chest and stretched again.

               _It doesn’t sound like anyone else is awake._ He stared up at the ceiling, drumming his fingers on his sternum. _I don’t want to risk waking Magnus, either, but I_ have _to use the bathroom._

               He remained in bed for another long minute before the pressure in his pelvis was too much to stand. Alec rose, crept past the chair where Magnus was slumped, and slowly opened the door. Blinking in the bright light streaming through the house’s many windows, Alec sunk his hands into the pockets of the too-big sweatpants and headed down the hall.

               Every door was closed tightly except for one, and a quick peek in found Alexei sprawled on his bed with a girl on either side. He hurried on.

               He latched the door to the bathroom behind him, taking a minute to wash out his mouth, scrub at his hands which for some reason were sticky, and splash water on his face. He was in the process of drying his face on a hand towel when the shower curtain was ripped open; Alec was certain that if he hadn’t just relieved the pressure, he would have pissed himself.

               Jace stood proudly in the tub, staring at him through narrowed eyes. His shirt hung limply from his torso and his pants were unbuttoned. He had a pair of sunglasses pushed halfway up his forehead and long red marks on his chest.

               Alec braced himself on the sink. “Christ on a _crutch,_ Jace, what are you _doing?_ ”

               “Why are you in my bedroom?” Jace demanded blearily. “Get out.”

               Alec, who had filled a cup with water to drink, threw it at his roommate. Jace jerked back as it splashed him in the face, slipped, grabbed the shower curtain, and with an almighty crash, fell and took the curtain rod with him.

               “Jace!” Dropping his cup, Alec darted to his side and grabbed the curtain rod, pulling it up and out of the way. “Shit, I’m sorry!”

               On his back, a soaked Jace stared owl-eyed up at him. “No, I—I needed that.” He sat up stiffly, rubbing the back of his head. “Hell. Did I sleep here?”

               “I guess so, if you didn’t crawl in there this morning.” Alec held out a hand to help him to his feet, and then out of the tub. “What’s on your chest?”

               Jace looked down, holding his shirt open, and then stepped in front of the mirror. Alec burst into laughter. Jace snorted, grinning.

               In what looked like lipstick, _I’M A DICK_ was scrawled across his pecs and flat stomach, with a distinctly phallic-shaped drawing poking from the waistband of his pants.

               “Guess Clary doesn’t like me as much as I thought,” he sighed light-heartedly. “I don’t know how I’m going to come back from this heartbreak.”

               “Come off it, Clary doesn’t make her I’s like that—she crosses them,” Alec corrected him with a snicker. “I guess whatever unfortunate soul had the misfortune of seeing you half-naked last night didn’t like what they saw.”

               “Where did _you_ end up?” Jace countered, giving Alec a once-over in the mirror. “Those aren’t your clothes.”

               Alec glanced down at himself. “I think they’re Magnus’s.”

               Jace’s eyebrows shot up.

               “Don’t get excited,” Alec scolded immediately. “I think I just grabbed whatever I could find when I went to bed last night. Considering I ended up in Magnus’s bed— _don’t give me that look, not like that!_ —I’m assuming they’re his.”

               Jace hummed, removing his sunglasses and examining them. “These aren’t mine. Well, I’ve got spare clothes in Ragnor’s room—I’m going to go change, since these are wet now.” He yawned. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few if you want to help me make breakfast.”

 

Alec reentered the bedroom to find Magnus awake on his phone, still deep in the chair. He sat forward as the door creaked open, pushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

               “Hey,” he croaked, and cleared his throat. “How’re you feeling?”

               “Fine,” Alec replied, rocking on the balls of his feet. “You?”

               “Ah, my back hurts from sleeping in this chair again,” he sighed, sitting forward and twisting each way. “It always does, and yet I continue to do it.”

               Alec frowned. “You could have pushed me out of your bed—I’d’ve taken the chair,” he insisted.

               Magnus shrugged, turning the movement into a stretch as he yawned hugely. It made Alec stifle one behind his hand. “Nah, you passed out as soon as you hit the pillow—I figured you needed it. I know how awful campus beds can be. That’s why I have four mattress pads on mine.”

               “Oh, that’s why it’s so soft.”

               “Nice, isn’t it?”

               Alec nodded. Magnus swung his legs down from his desk and stood fully, twisting and cracking his back. “There it is,” he groaned. He had on a pair of white joggers and a tank top. “Did you hear that bang earlier?”

               “Oh, yeah—remind me to put the shower curtain back up after breakfast,” Alec suddenly recalled.

               Magnus stared at him for a long time, decided it wasn’t worth pursuing, and picked his blanket up off the floor. Midway through Alec leaving to go downstairs, Magnus called back out to him.

               “Do you—remember much of last night?” he asked slowly. His gold eyes searched his face.

               _Why is he turning red? What did I do?_ Suddenly nervous that he hadn’t mistakenly recollected undoing Magnus’s buttons, Alec stammered, “U-Uh, not—much. Why?”

               “Do you recall what you fought with Malcolm about?”

               Alec rubbed his head. “Not really,” he admitted. “I remember fighting, but I don’t remember what about. I’ll apologize to him this morning.”

               “Don’t,” Magnus put in sharply. “He started it. Trust me. You have _nothing_ to apologize for.”

               “A-Alright.” He shook his head. “Nothing else, really. It’s all hazy.”

               Magnus nodded once and turned away. “Alright, just wondering.”

               Alec stared at his back. “Did I do something?” he ventured.

               “No.” Magnus’s voice was soft. “Don’t worry about it, darling. Weren’t you talking about breakfast?”

               “Oh—yeah.” Alec turned toward the door. “It’ll be ready in a little bit if you want some—Jace isn’t a bad cook.”

               _I don’t know if I fully believe what Magnus says,_ he thought as he headed for the first floor. _The reactions he’s having—I feel like he’s keeping something from me. He said its nothing I did—but were that the case…_

 _God, I really hope it wasn’t anything too embarrassing._ Alec swallowed nerves as he swung around the banister. _If I said anything about my feelings for him…_

 

Magnus stood staring at his bed after Alec’s footsteps vanished down the stairs, and soft voices were heard from the first floor. They disappeared into the kitchen after a moment.

               He raised his hand to his lips, which were still tingling. Magnus closed his eyes.

               _“I’m—fucking doing it.”_

 _What did that mean?_ Magnus pondered, turning to face himself in the mirror. _That can’t just be because Malcolm called him names._

               Butterflies burst to life in his stomach, and Magnus smiled nervously as his cheeks began to flush.

               _Does that mean he likes me too?_


End file.
